


The Probability of UFOs at Midnight

by foxmulder (lovelykenobi)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Astronomer!Scully, Bisexual!Scully, F/F, F/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Writer!Mulder, also, punk!scully, the relationship between mulder and scully is definitely a
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:12:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7114891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelykenobi/pseuds/foxmulder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Year is 1995, and Samantha Mulder is gone missing, bringing tourists back to Federal, Arizona. The only person who seems to care is her older brother, Fox but he can't find his sister alone.<br/>---------<br/>The Probability of UFO's at Midnight: or, the AU where Dana Scully is the daughter of a prominent scientist whose whole life is devoted to debunking conspiracy theories with the laws of science; and Fox Mulder is the son of two devoted believers who spend their whole life searching for proof of alien life. He plans to spend his whole summer playing baseball and writing conspiracy articles for his newspaper, until his sister gets abducted. The daughter of the skeptic, of course, gets caught up in his quest to find her.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Believers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing I was listening to lot of MSR college au playlists but [this one](http://8tracks.com/intelligentheart/mulder) was my favourite.  
> Enjoy reading!

_"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam."  
\- Carl Sagan_

 

It was the seventh UFO sighting in 1990 when the reporters came. They flocked across the country with cameras and microphones and everybody in the town of Federal had an encounter to share.

Some said they were grey and some said they were green, some said their ships were silver and some said they were invisible. But either way, everybody in town had something to say about aliens.

The summer was hot and wet and everyone had seen something extraterrestrial in the sky by May. Or almost everyone, at least. The journalists who weren’t writing about why the beings had come to visit their little town were writing about every so called “hoax” they could get their hands on. Still, the sightings were kept to the town’s little secret, their common experience. The pride of Federal, UFOs and state renowned pie-baking contests.

But on the seventh UFO sighting, an old woman with a rat’s nest of hair took a picture, and sent it to her daughter, and her daughter sent it to someone else, and someone else sent it to another someone. And by the end of the week, the picture was everywhere. News websites and conspiracy websites lit up like wildfire, and everybody knew the name of a small town called Federal, Arizona.

Everyone who could believe packed up their cars and cameras and swarmed upon the town, hungry to hear stories and theories and see pictures. Most of them never got the experience of seeing anything life-changing, but the novelty of it was enough.

The great migration of believers: there and back again. And most of them left disappointed, dragging their feet because they didn’t get to see a UFO. They bought their cheesy tee-shirts ( _my mom saw an alien and all I got was this stupid tee-shirt!_ ) and their posters and coffee mugs with the photo on them, and they left with their trunks packed without knowing any better.

But some stayed. In every flock of skeptics and believers, some found the attachment they were looking for. So they set up shop, cameras and journals. They wanted to know more, so they uprooted their lives to do so.

The Mulder family was one of them. They packed up the moving truck and their 2 and 6 year old, and took them to find the truth they believed so wholly in. In doing so, they left everything behind.

\----------------------

Skinner High School got out on May 31st. Students whooped and hollered with new-found liberation. Finally, summer! Every exam was complete and every grade was in. The sweet taste of freedom

Buses ferried home the freshman and sophomores, and the juniors and seniors sped out of the lot in their hand-me-down and cheap cars. Music blasted on the road outside, and the town was lit up with spirit. School was out, and summer was in.

Fox Mulder was on his way to the Little Alien Diner with his best friends, Frohike, Langly, and Byers. The windows were down and the radio was blasting. He had one year of high school left, and the giddy feeling was overwhelming.

Byers sat across from him with his back to the window, furiously typing on his phone. There was some girl, apparently, who he was so desperately in love with that he stared longingly out windows more than a teenage girl in a chick flick.

“Oh cheer up Byers, it could be worse. She could hate you!” Langly said, trying to be comforting. Frohike groaned, hating that his relationship status was such a frequent joke among his friends.

Mulder snorted. “I wouldn’t say she hates you, I would just say you’re taking the wrong approach. Trying to get a girl by slapping her ass -or trying to- never worked for me.”

“It also makes you look like an ass.” Byers added, and the other two nodded. Frohike rolled his eyes.  
  
The conversation was about a particular redhead who had caught every boy’s eye in the whole school. Partially because she was unattainable, and partially because she had punched every boy who had made an unwanted advance, including Frohike and eight others.

“The black eye was worth it. It was the only intimacy we’ve ever had!”

Mulder grinned and sat his chin on a folded arm, facing out the window. “Or ever will.”

“Damn, that’s cold, Fox.” Langly said as they pulled into the parking lot.

The diner was a million years old, originating to when the town was a hotspot for crowds of people parked out on the side of country roads, looking for the sight that could make them a legend. They could be better than the best! Take an “undeniable” photo, purchase evidence of a  
“real alien aircraft” (scrap metal), or even get abducted, if they were lucky enough.

But most people never succeeded. They went home with all their merchandise and disappointment, but would go back again and again, always searching, always wanting. They would get alien head tattoos and bumper stickers and write false columns about their adventure in space.

The diner thrived in those days, everyone wanting to take a picture with the alien sculpture relaxing on the bench out front. It was a go-to destination.  
  
Bells dinged as the four boys entered the front door. It was their frequent hangout for lunches on school days and every meal during the summer. The waitress grinned at the sight of them, waving a hand to their usual booth. “Our most prized customers.”

The menu presented many cheesy UFO themed entrees such as the Flying Saucer Burger, complete with a fried egg on top. The thing was greasy as all hell and the french fries on the side were even more. The four all ordered the burger along with the EBE Milkshake, which had an alien print glass.

Besides the food, the decorations were even more corny. Shiny silver UFO’s hung from the ceiling and reported flying saucer sighting photographs adorned the walls. The tables were dirty and scratched, and the tile floors were chipping with age and the marks of many footprints.

The diner was corny and old but it was so authentically _home_ to the people of Federal, and especially to Mulder. He’d lived in the tourist trap of a town for almost twelve years, and the waving alien printed on the welcome sign; the giant spaceship landmark: it was cheesy, but it was the only place he really had ever known.

Byers flipped open his phone as they sat and resumed typing furiously, and it wasn’t discernible whether he was fighting with the recipient or whether he was just really, really passionate about whatever they were talking about.

“She’s a genius, and her parents are too! She’s got a real path on the road to being a world-renowned scientist.” Byers defended, after noticing the judging looks of his friends.

“You’ve got a real crush on this Modeski girl.” Said Frohike, and Byers looked embarrassed.

“We were just discussing theories! I have a lot of ideas.”

Langly coughed to interrupt the two. “Anyway, we’ve got a whole summer ahead of us. We’ve got to make this one the best one yet! We've got to find real proof. ”

“Next summer we all go off to college.” Mulder added conveniently.

“We have a lot of work to do on the next issue of _The Lone Gunmen_ ”

“I just don’t know what to write about. We haven’t had anything significant sightings in this town since the nineties, and we’re running out of old stuff to write about.”  
  
The four had devoted the last two years of their lives to a so-called conspiracy newspaper called _The Lone Gunmen_. The problem was that Federal had become a sort of deadzone for the whole UFO thing in recent years, and there wasn’t much to write about anymore.

“We missed the heat! All the excitement has already passed.” Complained Frohike. “We were born too late!”

“I’m sure something is bound to happen.” Mulder said. “More stuff always happens in summer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's chapter one of my first longer fic in absolutely _ages_. I am all for high school AUs and Mulder and Scully are so ugggh so I thought I'd write this over my summer! I plan to update this weekly on Tuesdays/Wednesdays and that should be my continuous update schedule.  
>  I loved writing this first chapter, and I hope you loved reading it! If you did, I always appreciate comments, kudos, and bookmarks. They keep me writing and they keep me motivated! I  
> Again, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great rest of your day/night!  
> All the love,  
> K.C - scullysgirl


	2. Skeptics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you'll see the other side of the story, the skeptics. Established relationship between Scully & Reyes. You will see more of them after this as well!~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing this, I was listening to [this playlist](http://8tracks.com/garlandesque/you-look-amazingly-beautiful)  
> Enjoy reading!

With every migration of believers, there was also a migration of skeptics. Those who believed with their whole hearts were faced with those who sought to prove such belief wrong.

Of course, there were few who listened, Believers were always stubborn to remove the veil from their eyes, even when proof faced them from all directions.

Federal had its fair share of scientists and geniuses aiming to convince someone, anyone they could get their hands on. Just as the believers wouldn’t budge, the skeptics and scientists made no move to admit when they were wrong.

So Federal found itself with a Capulet and Montague scenario. Everyone either believed in the extraterrestrial or they didn’t, and neither party refused to give up their values. It became such a core value that the town was divided, almost rivals.

But of course, every family went to the same churches and restaurants and shops and schools. Eventually, they mingled together because of the small town. The so-called feud existed during the work day, but when they went home they were neighbours and friends, grandparents and grandchildren.

In short, for every Mulder family in Federal, here was a Scully family. Margaret Scully, a biochemist, came to study the environmental phenomenons and stayed for the crackpots. She brought her two daughters and two sons with her after her husband had died. She fell in love with the displaced little town and for _always_ knowing she was right, and she raised her children there.

\----------------------

The question Dana Scully kept asking herself was if she was betraying her mother’s devotion by falling in love with a so-called UFO nut. She also kept asking herself if she cared, especially when Monica wore that leather jacket and put her hair up in that messy ponytail, ugh -

And it was the first day of summer, and she was doing just that. It was ninety degrees outside but at least she was wearing shorts instead of jeans with the jacket, and damn, she looked good.

The two girls were sitting in a booth at the teenage hotspot Little Alien Diner, and it was one of the few days that they weren’t working. They both worked at the observatory, embarrassingly, in the gift shop. But it was better than cleaning the bathrooms and the kid-interactive displays. _Barely._

Smiling over her milkshake, Monica said, “you’re staring.”

Scully blushed. “Sorry.” She had fashioned staring at Monica into a bad habit, sometimes looking at her without really even thinking about it, drifting away into deep thought while staring. It was getting to be embarrassing.

She grabbed her hand under the table. “You don’t have to apologize.”

Scully’s freshman year, Monica had called her on a Saturday afternoon and asked her if she could see her at the diner. Scully went along to meet her, unsure of what her best friend was doing, Two hours later, Monica’s mouth was against hers in Scully’s twin bed. Glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, telescope in the corner, and Dana Scully was pretty sure she was in love.

Now it was the tail end of junior year, and everything still felt as electric as it did the first day. Even if Monica was moving to Virginia. Scully didn’t want to think about it.  
  
“You look amazingly beautiful.” Scully said, looking down at her lap. She bit her lip.

“I’m in love with you, Dana Katherine.”

“You keep calling me that, why?”

“I thought it was cute. Do you not like it?”

Scully laughed. “No. I love it. It’s just different.”

To everyone but Monica, she was Scully. Nothing else, “Dana” was reserved for her family and for Monica, and the way the words graced her lips made the name sound so sweet and secret.

When boys called her Scully, it made her tough. Most of them knew she had a good right hook, and she wasn’t afraid to use it when she had to. Her dad had taught her how to protect herself among some other things, but she had retained that most of all.

“Dana, we should talk about July.”

“You mean, what happens?” Scully wanted to say that she knew what would happen. Monica would either break it off early or meet a girl or a boy there and break it off then: either way, their ship was heading for an iceberg.

Monica was quiet. “Yeah.”

“Listen,” she took a breath, feeling a sour twist in her stomach. “It’s not my decision to make. It’s yours.”

“I care about what you want, too.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Scully’s eyes. “What I want is for you to stay. You know that.”

Monica squeezed her hand tighter under the table. “I know. But I just can’t have you and the FBI at the same time.”

It was true. Monica wanted to work for the FBI and she was determined as all hell. She’d worked all four years of high school, and on top of that was taking student loans. It was her dream. Nothing was going to stop her. Not even home, not even Scully.

Scully nodded. “I just wish things were different.”

“But that doesn’t mean that these two months we’ve got left are going to be a drag.”

“It’s not that long of a time, Mon.”

“I know, but we’ll make the best of it.”

Scully slid her milkshake to the other side of the dirty table and sat next to her. She rested her head on Monica’s shoulder and sighed. “I’ll miss you.”

Monica smiled. It seemed weak, burdened. She felt like she was throwing the world away, wasting one dream for another. “I’ll still call.”

“That’s what all the other couples say, and then they get all caught up and forget to.”

“Well, we aren’t a straight couple, are we?”

That made Scully laugh. She was right-- usually when the boys went off to college or to someplace far from Federal, they always promised to call. But they got caught up in parties and other girls and the heat of things. And the little UFO town with it’s little alien people back home was suddenly a distant dusty memory in the back of their minds.  
Scully didn’t think Monica was like that.

“We’ll make it work. We’ll figure something out.” Said Scully, and she wasn’t sure if she was assuring herself or promising Monica. Long-distance never seemed to work. But it was a new millennium, and she was trying hard to believe that things could work.

“Change is okay.”

And maybe Monica already knew that Scully had more in store for her than she knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up posting the second chapter early, because I have a lot of ideas and I really wanted to get to chapters with Scully in them. (I'm not ashamed to admit that.)  
> Anyway, to all of you who have read so far and left kudos and comments, thank you so much! It made me really hyped up to finish this chapter, hoo boy. Also I just love these girls together.  
> Thank you for taking time to read this, and please leave kudos and comments if you liked it! They make me so happy. New chapters are always coming, because I'm obsessed with this AU.  
> All the love,  
> K.C - scullysgirl


	3. A Speck in the Universe

It was the third night of skimming through newspaper calls, dialing and answering the phone, and reheating cups of coffee. The Lone Gunmen were trying to find everything and anything that they could write about, something that anyone would listen to.

The boys had run into a lot of disappointment in their quest for the truth. Byers had cried _at least_ once when a lead proved to be a dead end.

“There are a lot more crackpots in this town than I thought.” That was saying something, considering the state of Federal since it was established as a UFO hotspot.   
Langly’s idea had at first seemed like a good one -- tape posters around the town advertising the paper, and maybe someone would have something to say that hadn’t already been published.

After just the first three days, the boys were exhausted. The amount of crazed ramblings they’d heard was unfathomable, let alone the amount people who had obviously lost brain cells to smoking too much weed and were just _convinced_ they’d seen Jesus in a monster truck. Which, while admittedly was funny, was as unhelpful as the last ten calls.

Frohike groaned. “I want a waffle and a steaming hot cup of quality conspiracy.”

“Are we ever going to get anywhere with this?” Byers asked.

“It’s seems like all we’ve gotten is a pile of bullshit.” Mulder said, handing a cup of coffee to Frohike.

“Maybe this town isn’t getting any action these days.”

“We’ve got to keep going.” Langly said. Admittedly, it was weak encouragement for the quartet. All-nighte weren’t going to make UFOs appear in the sky, or put the town back on it’s feet.

Of course, there were small things. Someone north of them had seen lights in the sky, and someone to the south had seen something crash land in the woods. But there was nothing to write about from that-- the stories sounded like regurgitated horror movies or famous stories.

With every passing moment, and every answered phone call, hope drained from the group. They were tired, and their motivation was little. They wanted to succeed the way their parents had; by believing endlessly and not letting anyone tell them anything different.

But it seemed that as time passed, the world had become less naive. Fewer people would believe without proof and “skeptic until proof is undeniable” seemed to be the new mentality.

It made Mulder tired. He was raised to believe, and the rest of the world was raised to question him. Every morning he woke up and faced a brick wall of cynicism between him and the truth.

He felt like his parents had it easier when they’d moved to Federal -- everyone wanted to believe, and everyone was willing to accept that maybe they didn’t know everything.

“Start again tomorrow?” He suggested, and the others sighed. It was a tedious task, and every newspaper and corny website they went through seemed to sprout ten others.

Rides and drivers were being assigned (“Frohike, can you drop me off? Mom won’t let me have the car after ten.”) when Mulder got a phone call. There was silence and crackling on the other side of the phone, the sound of breathing distant.

“Hello?” He said. Once, and then two times.

The caller took a gasping breath. It sounded like someone was crying in the background.

There are moments before shattering news in which the world seems to slow, in which the conversation or phone call goes from just a phone call into a cemented memory of he moment when everything was still normal. Everything was still normal, in the moment before Fox Mulder heard his father’s words. He was just a senior with a work-in-progress newspaper and kind of idiot friends, and his life was simpler.

Mulder never knew that with every story of an abduction or a UFO sighting, there was also tragedy that came with it. There was a family that lost a member, or a man that lost his mind. There were two sides to the coin of belief.

“Fox.” It was the voice of Bill Mulder. “Samantha’s missing.”

\----------------------

It was almost too hot for the pool. This summer was proving to be like most Arizona summers: dry and relentless. But Scully still donned her one-piece and put zinc on her cheeks, lamenting the heat on the drive over to Monica’s house.

Monica was waiting for her, messy bun and sunglasses as all. She’d already been in and her hair was still wet, falling in loose strands around her face. Scully took a breath, feeling like a crushing freshman all over again. Monica smiled.

“They said this summer is gonna be the hottest one yet.”

“The weathermen always say that.”

“But doesn’t it feel _different?_ Like there’s something in the air?”

Scully snorted. It sounded like Monica’s mom would say, at one of those conventions they had annually.   
“Sounds like something a crackpot who lives in a trailer would say.” She said, laughing.

“Sounds like something a scientist who runs a debunking blog would say.”

Monica was right -- Margaret Scully did run a debunking blog, and that is exactly something she would say.

The couple laid back on their poolside chairs, soaking in the sun. “Technically, its our last day of summer, Dana.”

Tomorrow, they would go back to work selling NASA baseball caps and Apollo 11 pins and patches, and worst of all, every single article of alien-themed merchandise one could imagine. Shirts with cheesy slogans and puns, temporary tattoos, shot glasses and bumper stickers.

All obvious relics of the town’s better days, when the economy was fueled by skeptics and believers both. For Scully, it was embarrassing to endorse that culture-- but she was hoping to get promoted by the end of the summer. At least it would be one good thing to come out of it.

Scully had loved the stars since she was young, fascinated by the stories of her hometown and the the smattering of them across the Arizona night sky. She’d started working at the Federal Observatory because she wanted to study everything beyond Earth, even if it meant she could find true possibility of lifeforms different than her.

Margaret used to drive out on weekends to the middle of the desert with her daughters, packing a telescope and a picnic lunch. She would tell them stories about their father, and college, and the long drive to Federal from Washington. It made those nights magical, captivating, and their childhoods astronomical.

Margaret wasn’t fond of the idea of her daughter wanting to become an astronomer, especially an open-minded one. The thing about _those types of scientists_ was that they had a tendency to admit that the universe was bigger than humans believed.

She was absorbed in thought when she heard a splashing sound: Monica had jumped right back into the pool, and was floating on her back, eyes closed.   
“Jump in!” She shouted, smiling. Scully pinched her nose and jumped in after her. It was freezing cold, and she shrieked.

Monica swam over and wrapped her arms around Scully’s shoulders. She felt hot in a whole different way then the sun was. Scully closed her eyes as Monica pressed her lips to hers, and the summer felt almost normal again.


	4. Pursuits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While reading, I'd recommend listening to the songs "Sleeping Sickness" by City and Colour for Mulder's part & "Unsteady" by X Ambassadors for Scully's part, or just [this playlist.](http://8tracks.com/vanessasives/chasing-little-green-men) I hope you enjoy reading!

Not a single thing had moved in the house. There were no shattered windows, no upturned objects, no turned on lights, no sound. Nothing. Samantha Mulder had disappeared without a trace.

The police didn’t need to say it, because everyone else already was. They’re back. It was torture, because no one seemed to care about the tragedy that had just occurred. They cared only that the town would once be great again; that the sightings would be prominent and the reporters would come flocking back.

When he returned home, the police had already searched the house. There wasn’t a fingerprint, a ransom note, a sign or proof that Samantha was alive or a sliver of hope that she would ever come home. And they didn’t keep looking, because to them, their answer wasn’t on the ground anymore. It wasn’t in Samantha’s belongings or in trace evidence. It was in the sky.

Mulder felt sick. She was thirteen years old, finishing her eighth grade year. He should’ve been there, should’ve protected her. She would’ve been home, asleep, if only he hadn’t went to Frohike’s house.

Fox Mulder didn’t classify himself as the type to cry. But as Bill and Teena answered questions with such vibrance, such excitement, he cried. He cried because no one else would cry for Samantha. They were rejoicing because the belief was back.

The blame for Samantha’s disappearance was a lot of weight to carry for a 17 year old, but Mulder shouldered it because no one else would.The light in his parent’s eyes said the _game is back on_ , and it sickened him that they thought of it as just another day at the office. They were so damn excited. Grief was under there somewhere, but it was sheltered by unfaltering belief.

He hated them. He hated them and their quest.

Because to them, it didn’t matter where she was, or if she was alive. It didn’t even matter who had taken her. They cared about what had taken her. In one horrible moment, Mulder realized that they cared more about the existence of extraterrestrial life than their daughter. Samantha, who collected rocks and had her friends over on Thursdays.

Samantha, who argued over TV shows with Mulder. Samantha, who did not deserve to be part of some fucked-up science experiment.

Mulder went to his room, locked himself in the bathroom, and threw up twice. He cried and cried and began to understand the metaphor of shaking like a leaf: fragile, weightless, the absence of autonomy to where he was going to end up.

Head rested against the wall, he felt detached from his body. Disassociation made his body cold, and his torso light. Anchored to his body, he tried to return, shouting loud and louder. He tried to cut the chains, to set himself free from a mortal form.

His fault. _His fault._

The real Fox wasn’t down there, covered in tears and sweat, he was floating above the roof. He was searching for his sister in the skies. That was the only place she would be found.

Mulder realized, frozen and shaking on the cold tile floor, that he would do anything to have his sister back. He would sacrifice everything if it meant to have her home.

\----------------------

Dana Scully wasn’t drunk, but she was tipsy. The world was blurred at the edges, and everything was a little hazy. Except for Monica. The dark-haired girl threw the bottle back for another swig.

Monica. The name was sweet, but there was an ache behind it. It was the softest love Scully had ever known in 17 years, and it was fading with every sunset. Every day that passed was one day closer.

She took the bottle from Monica’s hand and took a long drink, forcing the burn into the back of her throat. She felt sick, from alcohol and heat and some version of grief. It was pre-grief, preparing herself for loss she knew was coming.

Monica took her hand. “Are you okay?”

Scully felt incredibly unsteady, with a thousand words to say that made her throat tighten and her breathing speed up. _I love you. I Love You._ What was coming next in her life was unavoidable, but all the logic she put to it didn’t make it less painful.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Monica’s, hoping to silence her mind. What greeted her was warm but fleeting. Soft but fading. She ran her fingers through Scully’s hair, and it felt as if the moment was desaturating around Scully. She was the only permanent thing there.

Monica pulled back, feeling tears on her cheeks. “Dana, what’s wrong?”

“Do you know I’ve loved you since I was fifteen?” The room was crushing around her, the air strangling her. Who the hell was she without Monica? The past two years meant nothing if Monica was already moving on, it was just wasted time. Every time Scully had stared up at her ceiling and felt butterflies meant nothing.

“This is about me leaving, isn’t it?”

Scully nodded. Suddenly her lungs weren’t breathing air anymore. She felt like she was drowning just thinking about it. Senior year alone. Wasn’t it supposed to be different? Wasn’t it supposed to be the year of perfect couples and perfect prom?

“I can’t imagine existing in this town without you. You keep me sane.”

Scully’s mom and the freakshow of believers around were only held at bay because of Monica. Her cool head, her peaceful soul. But she was leaving to somewhere better. That's what Scully wanted to believe.

She took Scully’s chin in her hand, staring into her eyes. “I love you. Endlessly.”

Scully steadied herself and stood up, letting go of Monica’s hand. “I have to go.” Despite Monica’s objection, she grabbed her sweatshirt.

“It’s okay. We’ll talk about this later. Melissa can drive me home. It’s okay.” Every word was an assurance, a promise. But Scully knew that she was lying, because it was so so far from okay.  
  
As the door shut in her face, Monica took a breath and reminded herself of her goals, steadying her beliefs. Everything would be okay. 

With shaky hands Scully dialed Melissa’s phone, listening to three rings before she picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s me. Can you come pick me up?”

“I thought you were staying the night at Monica’s?”

“Please just come get me.”

Moments passed and Melissa took a breath. “Of course. I’ll be there in five minutes.” She hung up the phone, and sat on the curb. Her white converse were scuffed and dirty with red dirt. Everything about her was red, her hair, the sunset, the stains on her shoes.

She took a deep breath, wiping away the tears. She was sure she looked a fright with smudged eyeliner and red-rimmed eyes. Sobering up, Scully brushed her hair out of her eyes. Being alone seemed impossible, but she had done it before. She was brave enough.

And as she looked up at the stars, she reminded herself that in the opinion of most astronomers, she was never alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I procrastinated the hell out of finishing this one, and consequently wrote a couple whole other random chapters that will somehow fit into this story. Go me, I guess.  
> Anyway, I just hit 100 readers on this, and I can't express how excited and happy I am about that! Thank you to all of you for reading everything I've been putting out so far. I hope you're enjoying it.  
> Kudos for kisses, and comments for cuddling! (That's lame I'm sorry.) But I have expressed how much feedback means to me, so please, if you liked it, tell me!  
> All the love,  
> K.C - scullysgirl (lovelykenobi)


	5. Disappearing Act (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully grapples with the end of her relationship with Monica, and Mulder is tormented by his parent's treatment of Samantha's disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing, I'd recommend listening to to "Poison and Wine" by The Civil Wars for Scully's part, and "Coffee" by Sylvan Esso for Mulder's part or just [this mix.](http://8tracks.com/madmadeleine/unobstructed-views) I hope you enjoy reading!

The waitress set two cups of coffee in front of the Scully sisters. Dana felt more tired than she ever had before, a different kind of tired. Everything felt so far away: the chipped white mug, her sister’s caring eyes, the previous hour and the alcohol in her system.

“Dana, you don’t look so good.” Melissa said. The tone of her voice was worried.

“I just need to sober up, I think. I’ll be okay.” Scully stirred her coffee with a tiny spoon, mixing in three packets of sugar. It was almost one in the morning. She felt her phone buzzing with yet another call from Monica, but she didn’t pick up.

Her eyes were fixed on the swirling vortex of liquid the spoon created as she kept stirring, and it was almost peaceful for a moment.

“Dana, you know I will support you endlessly. I am here for you forever. But something is very obviously wrong.”

They both took their first sip of coffee. It was strong and almost too hot. The sugar hadn’t dissolved completely yet, leaving it bitter. Dana squeezed her eyes together, forcing the hot liquid down. She gathered up her courage, knowing honestly was the only way out of the situation.

“It’s Monica. I just couldn’t kiss her and pretend everything was fine, knowing how close we are to--” she inhaled sharply. “To the end.”

Melissa nodded. Dana had confirmed her already strong suspicions that she letting her on to everything she was feeling. Monica had damaged her, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. Dana had never been able to hide her emotions, she bottled them up but acted strangely until someone caught on. Then she would release her pain like a waterfall to everyone close enough to listen. She was doing that now.

“I just don’t understand how she can pretend everything is fine, as if nothing has changed. It’s like she can pretend she’s still a junior and we’ve still got a year left, that this summer is just another summer of sunburns and late nights and she’s not leaving.”

Dana rested her head on crossed arms and let out a sob. “Fuck, she’s leaving.”

She didn’t want to admit it to herself. She’d been hiding it behind thin curtains for months, refusing to accept that her first love was leaving, going away, that she didn’t care about her enough to stay.

And Monica kept saying this wasn’t about her, this was about her future and making hard decisions but Scully couldn’t comprehend it. Maybe she sounded selfish, she acknowledged that, but she’d been chasing Monica all these years, and now she was leaving? Monica was the one being selfish.

Dana loved her, and that didn’t matter now, apparently. She was going away to something better, and leaving her behind. Scully would give everything up for her, and Monica wouldn't?

It was a new notion to her.

\---------------------------------------

Fox Mulder, son of the believer and denier of the skeptic, fell asleep on cold tile with tear streaks across his face. When he woke up, he almost expected Samantha to come barging in, shouting at him that he’d been in there for too long and it was about time for him to come out and let her get in the shower.

But she didn’t. Then the pain was all fresh and ugly, and Mulder felt like he was drowning all over again in anger and regret and blame. _Oh Samantha. Please come home._

It was 11:30. He remembered coming into the bathroom, he remembered the breakdown, but he couldn’t understand why no one had come to check on him. _Oh._

He’d locked the door. A faint memory drifted in the back of his mind of Mom banging on the door, calling him “Fox,” asking him to come out. Mulder had refused, not wanting to address either of them.

Apparently, after some time they had given up on trying to retrieve him. _Probably had something better to do._ Mulder thought to himself. _Like type up another useless article on the existence of extraterrestrials and how they stole my kid from right out under me._

Every hateful thought he could think passed through Mulder’s head. He was angry and they were selfish. He was angry _because_ they were selfish.

He reached one hand up onto the counter to steady himself. Every muscle in this body seemed to ache, as if he’d been in the freezer all night and now his body was thawing. His head thumped too, a constant pulse. When Mulder looked in the mirror, his eyes were red and his hair was a mess. Everything felt like absolute shit.

Bill and Teena Mulder were sitting on opposite arm chairs, both with their arms crossed, in deep conversation. Sparks of anger exploded in Mulder’s head, and he forced himself to calm down. God, how he wanted to scream at them. He couldn’t even justify it anymore. He just wanted someone to blame.

“Fox.” Teena stood, reaching her arms out to ask for a hug. “We were so worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Mulder was definitely _not_ fine, but he had no want to even speak to his parents for any other reason other than to figure out if there were any new developments.

“The town asked us to speak at the meeting for Abduction Season and we were just trying to decide what to say.”

 _Oh._ Oh. Mulder felt like bone-dry pine needles covered in lighter fuel in a campfire, fire spreading through him faster than he could comprehend.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He was not in his body anymore. The spirit of rage had possessed him. Samantha was missing and they were just another abduction family speaking so the town could jack off to the idea of another frequent abduction season, kids and parents disappearing everywhere, whole families and communities being destroyed and then being spoke about as if it was a story, not something that had actually happened.

Mulder had always hated that about Federal. And now it was happening to him? It was happening to his family, and they were just going to pretend that Samantha was just a random stranger they would see in the local paper. She could be dead! And they cared about the fucking _conference?_

“Excuse me, son?” Bill stood, barely towering over his boy but still holding a commanding presence.

“Your daughter is missing. Your only daughter is missing and you’re discussing what to say at the Abduction Season panel? Is that really all you care about?”

“Fox--” Teena started, but Mulder was on a roll now, vengeful and striking out.

“No. No excuses. I’m going to see Frohike and the others, if you need anything, you know how to contact me.”

He stormed out the door without another word, and his parents were dumbfounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Here it is. A week too late, but I've been brewing this one for a while. I really loved writing Dana and Melissa's relationship in this, and I even made myself cry writing Mulder, because I'm just that much of a mess. Anyway, more updates coming soon! I'm having such a great time writing this, and I hope you all are too. I say it all the time, but kudos and comments mean the absolute WORLD to me and I love to hear what you think. Thank you so much for reading!  
> All the love,  
> K.C - scullysgirl


	6. Disappearing Act (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While reading this, I'd recommend listening to "After the Storm" by Mumford and Sons for Mulder's part and "Beyond the Sea" by Bobby Darin for Scully's part.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Mulder knocked on the door to Frohike’s basement room. It was more of a cave then a room, but it was the place that The Lone Gunmen called their home base anyway.  
Frohike looked through the peephole. It was actually a hole drilled through the door with a piece of cardboard over one side, but it was close enough.

“What’s the password?”

“Open up, asshole.”

“Close enough.” He moved the chair resting against it so no one could come in through the outside, and then removed the original lock, and the four other locks Frohike had added for “safety.” Thank god his parents trusted him, or else they would have thought the added security was to hide some sort of drug operation.

But then again, it was Federal, and Frohike didn’t have the social skills to talk to a drug dealer.

“Mulder.” Frohike greeted him, wrapping his arms around his friend's’ waist. He was at least a foot shorter, but he made do. “You look like shit.”

It was the perfect amount of Frohike-isms and comfort for Mulder. He felt tears pool up in his eyes.

Langly and Byers were already there, sitting on Frohike’s thrift-store couch, complete with a bag of cheetos and a six pack of coke. Some special about America’s cryptids was playing on the decrepit old TV. A pizza box from the night before sat on Frohike’s bed, but the mess and the stink of teenage boy was consoling. It was the only place Mulder wanted to be.

Langly stood, walking over to embrace him. He was wearing a faded band t-shirt and had pulled his tangly hair back. “We were going to call.”

“Don’t worry about it guys, really. I just needed someplace to go.”

They all nodded, understanding Mulder’s pain and where he was coming from. All of them had seen it before-- their whole lives, but just not this close. Samantha had shouted at them for taking up too much space on the couch, for eating all the junk food, for ordering a pizza and not saving any for her. They knew her personally. It was too close to home.

“Want a beer?” Frohike asked. Hidden behind a thousand soda bottles and a fake wall, his mini-fridge held a stash of cheap beers somebody’s older sibling or friend had acquired.

Mulder thought about it for a moment and nodded. He wanted something more numbing, but his friends weren’t those kind of guys. He settled between Byers and Frohike on the beat up couch, all four of them absorbed in the TV.

“You missed the Jersey Devil part, but Bigfoot is coming up soon. Apparently it’ll have real voice recordings.”

Mulder felt a false sense of normalcy-- maybe it all wasn’t real, maybe Samantha was home on the swingset or swimming at the pool, maybe they’d find something to write about soon, maybe things would turn around. He fantasized that last night had gone different, that he’d fallen asleep on Frohike’s couch and woke up with a bedhead and cheeto dust on his shirt.

Life was changing, for everybody. Mulder wasn’t ready to accept it, but it was. He could pretend for a small moment as Langly commented that Bigfoot’s growling sounded like a bear, but he’d have to return home eventually.

At home, his parents hadn’t begun grieving. Neither of them were talking about what had happened the previous night. They were talking about the return of aliens to Federal, and how that would do for their business. For tourism.

Nothing about Samantha. They had shoved that as far into the back of their minds as they could get it. Maybe if they could deny it enough, maybe she’d come home with a scraped knee and say that she had a great sleepover at Lisa’s house. And then everything would be normal again.

\---------------------------------------

Melissa had driven her younger sister home shortly after 3 am, once Dana had cried herself out. It took a lot of tears for her to finally ask to go home, and she fell asleep in the passenger seat.

Everything hurt. The diner reminded her of Monica, the passenger seat of the Scully siblings’ car, her own bed. It felt like she was losing Monica piece by piece, as every day went on. She was disintegrating before her eyes.

God, and it hurt. It was agonizing to wait every minute knowing every minute was closer to D-Day, and then she’d have no one else to run to. The last three years of her life were all about Monica. Sure, she’d kept a circle of friends, stayed social, but Monica was the absolute center of the universe. Monica was her everything, her last word, her one and only.

Dana had even thought about marrying her. She’d thought about the dress, the cake, the dancing, the fuck you to the relatives who berated “fags” at Thanksgiving. It had been serious for her since day one. Monica was the end-all-be-all of Scully’s life.

And now she was being forced to move on. Everything inside of her didn’t want to. She’d told Melissa all of this, spilling out everything she’d thought and every emotion she’d felt since Monica told her she was going to Virginia.  
It felt like halfway across the world, and it was unfathomable.

Scully woke up with a headache. She hadn’t been that drunk, but her hangovers were all too easy to attain and all too hard to get rid of. Her chest hurt and her stomach growled, and there was an emptiness in her heart, choking her up and making it hard to get out of bed.

It took incredible energy for her to even push the covers up. It was already burning in her room, and something was cooking downstairs. She had 3 missed calls and a million missed text messages. It seemed like Monica had been up for the rest of the night, trying to get a hold of her.

Now absolutely wasn’t the time to address that problem. Scully put her phone in her nightstand drawer and went downstairs.

Melissa was making crab cakes. Dana’s favourite. They were introduced to them by their father. He was a man of the sea and a chef of the sea as well, and he’d left a few recipes behind. Melissa was excellent at his crab cakes.

Dana took a seat at the table, crossing her legs underneath her. She ran her fingers through her messy hair, trying to smooth it down.

After her first bite all she could remember was her father on Sunday mornings, frying up fish and chips and crab cakes while singing along to “Beyond the Sea.” Maybe her life would’ve been different if he hadn’t died. Maybe she would have never moved to Federal, maybe then she never would’ve met Monica.

“Are you having friends over?” Scully asked sleepily. Her hair was in tangles, a ponytail holder holding the whole mess together.

Melissa smiled at her. “No. Just you.”

Dana grinned. Her soul was exhausted, but Melissa happened to be the best sister in the whole world.

Scully indulged herself in those fantasies, wishing the pain away as she chatted with Melissa. A sense of peace washed over her-- temporary, but it stilled a storm inside her.

The thought of her dad kept her calm as the past and the quickly coming future shook her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom! Here's another. This one hopefully is much happier than the last two, but don't be afraid! It will continue to get happier. I want to write their grief over their personal struggles but ALSO I want them to not suffer constantly. Anyway, I loved writing this, I'm really getting in touch with writing Mulder's character. But I want to know what you think! Please comment with what you're thinking about this so far, and kudos, of course, are also fantastic! Thank you so much for reading this.  
> All the love,  
> K.C - scullysgirl


	7. Broken Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder takes his first steps to finding peace; Scully makes the hardest decision she's ever made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While reading this, I'd recommend listening to "Hold Back the River" by James Bay for Scully's part and "Another Story" by The Head and the Heart for Mulder's part, or just [this playlist](http://8tracks.com/vanessasives/the-light-in-dark-places)  
> I hope you enjoy reading!

Scully imagined herself painting over every memory. Her first kiss with a beautiful girl, she painted yellow. The moment with Monica was so unbelievably yellow, lying in the desert with a telescope, surrounded by brush and cacti, a picnic blanket under their bodies. And Monica kissed her, and the sun shone even in the night.

For the first time she saw Monica cry, she painted it blue. The urge she felt to take away all of the pain that Monica felt, every terrible moment. She wanted to replace all of them with happy ones.

For every moment since Monica had told her she was going away, she painted it with white. If it was whited out, it didn’t have to exist. And she started letting it go.

Scully started the way Melissa had told her to: directly addressing the problem. She would have given everything to ignore Monica’s calls and texts until July, when she would have no choice but to go away without another word.

With shaking hands, Scully picked up the phone. She steadied herself. After everything she had survived -- her father’s death, the move, her mother’s default setting to deny: she could survive this. With steely resolution she called Monica.

After three rings, Monica answered. “Dana.” What was that in her voice? Suprise? Relief?

“Hello.” Everything about her emotions were unsteady, and she tried her best to stay cordial. Dana wanted to scream, to cry her eyes out and beg for anything else, for Monica to change her mind, but she pushed that back.

Monica recoiled at the harsh tone her girlfriend spoke in. Behind her whirling thoughts, she knew what this meant. Scully had a change of heart, and it was all over. D-Day five weeks too early.

“You left in a hurry last night. I was worried about you.”

That infuriated Scully. _You were worried about me? You should’ve been. You shouldn’t have done this to me._  
“Yeah. I just had some things that I needed to think about. I’m okay, though.”

Monica sighed. “I know you’re angry and hurt because of what’s in store for me - for us - and I understand that.” She took a breath and Scully interrupted.  
  
“I don’t want to hear your lengthy apology, Mon. I don’t accept it.”

“Please don’t do this to me.”

“I’m not doing this for you or against you. I’m doing it for myself, because I’m in pain. I can’t sit around and pretend that everything is okay, waiting for some clock to tick down before you leave. It’s killing me.”

“I love you and I don’t want to let you go.”

“Here’s the thing, babe, you made a distinct decision when you got your letter. You made the decision to put this town behind, and me with it. And I don’t fault you for that. I’m trying to be happy for you, and accept that you had a choice to make.” Scully took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking. “But I’m making a decision now, too. I can’t keep waiting. I’m ending it now.” Her mascara was running, leaving black trails across her cheeks. She was so incredibly exhausted. “It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. It just means that I need to move on.”

Heartbreak has been described a lot of ways over thousands and thousands of years. Monica was feeling it as if she was a snake shedding her skin, growing out of an old shell that was starting to be just too tight. She was moving on to a new skin, a new path. Scully was part of the old skin she’d have to leave behind. Forcing herself to let go of the present and move onto the future was the hardest decision she’d ever made. For Monica, heartbreak felt like determination to let it go, burying it deep and steady her head to look ahead.

For Scully, heartbreak felt like the world ending. It was like her father died all over again. All she knew was crumbling down around her, and she was choking as dust whirled around her. She knew what she could rebuild, but there was so much that she didn’t know where to start. In the eye of the hurricane, she bowed down and made plans for every day after this. Maybe she would love Monica forever, but there was future. It was too cloudy to see yet, but it was inevitable.

The girl with the head of fire fell asleep with her first peaceful thought in weeks, dreaming of the stars.

\---------------------------------------

It had been two weeks since Samantha disappeared. The Mulder family was still blatantly denying that anything had changed-- it was as if they were pretending they were in an alternate universe where they had never had a daughter in the first place.

Mulder hadn’t been sleeping well. After several nights trying to get his mind to still in his own bed, he’d moved permanently to Frohike’s couch, and some times the floor of Byers’ room. Frohike got up to pee every hour, left a mess everywhere, and snored, but it was better than his own house.

Byers got up early to watch cartoons with his younger sister. Byers ate breakfast with her, and Mulder couldn’t stop thinking about how he and Samantha had always argued over what to watch, especially when they were younger. Mulder couldn’t stop thinking that Samantha’s favourite cereal was Lucky Charms, and she always managed to get most of the box.

Everything in his mind was consumed with powerlessness. No one had ever gone looking for an abductee before. The protocol was to speak at a press conference to pump up the fanatics, but there was never a police investigation or anything of the like. It was widely accepted that no one, not ever, came back once they were abducted.  
  
His whole life, Mulder had seen this happen to families in the community. They grieved quietly because grief wasn’t good for business, cops weren’t good for business, the FBI wasn’t good for tourism. If people started snooping around, then the fleet of believers stopped.

Most folk went along with it. It seemed commonplace. But now that Mulder was experiencing that grief firsthand, he couldn’t imagine how this had gone on for so many years. Everyone wanted to keep him quiet.

It was a tourist town, after all. A dusty ridethrough on the cross country roadtrip, tumbleweeds blowing through the road, driving through the desert and shitty motels. The people of Federal didn’t matter unless they had lost someone. Their story only mattered if they had lost someone to the phenomenon.

“C’mon, Mulder, you’ve gotta eat something.”

He kept claiming he wasn’t hungry. No, nothing was wrong with him, he just wasn’t hungry. Food just wasn’t appetizing. Scrambled eggs were a mountain that Mulder didn’t have the energy to climb. Everything he ate seemed to be completely forced, and he felt like a machine.

Two bites, chew, swallow. Drink three sips of water. Take a deep breath. Repeat the whole process again until the plate is clear and they’re done nagging you. Everything was tasteless. Chewing cardboard.

Sometimes Mulder would wake up from a impromptu nap, absolutely terrified that he couldn’t remember the exact color of Samantha’s eyes. Blue, blue-- ocean blue ? Cornflower blue? Indigo? He couldn’t breathe.

Her laugh-- bells, windchimes, bubbling and skipping across the lake surface?

_Oh god, oh god._

He’d realize later it wasn’t slipping away from him as he feared. Her eyes were powder blue, and her laugh chimed around corners and through cracks in the walls.

Mulder wouldn’t answer his mom’s calls. She called after breakfast and after dinner, like clockwork. Every time it rang, he was tempted, but realized he had no words to say to her. If he answered that phone, his mouth would open and close like a fish without air until he got so angry again that he hung up.

Langly drove to get their stuff. The Mulder parents begged him to relay a message, which he took but never gave. He got Mulder’s toiletries and clothes and some books and CD’s. He also grabbed Mulder’s dusty typewriter, sitting on his desk which faced the window.

Byers loaned him a copy of _The Pale Blue Dot_ on audiobook. Frohike loaned him all his VCR recordings of the Twilight Zone and those things softened his pain and rage.

The first night Mulder slept - _really, deeply slept_ \- was when he listened to the tape of _:The Pale Blue Dot._ He put it in and fastened the headphones, sprawling out as much as he could on the couch.

The narrator's voice was silky and steady, with few rises and falls. He read the words slowly, carefully, escalating as he continued, the passage building around him.  
_“From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of particular interest. But for us, it's different. Consider again that dot. That's here, that's home, that's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.”_

Mulder found himself overwhelmed by a sense of being miniscule, feeling tears rolling down his cheeks.

And then he was so exhausted. He had been carrying the weight of the world, the weight of his guilt and the weight of his parent’s mistakes.

And for the first time in two weeks, he slept; dreaming of spaceships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I have a lot of free time? Anyway, this one is longer than most of my chapters, but I really really loved Mulder's part. Also, sorry about all the Carl Sagan references, I listen to audio clips of The Pale Blue Dot when I'm writing this A LOT.
> 
> To everyone who is keeping up with this mess: thank you. I adore you and every time you comment or leave kudos, imagine me sending kisses across the country or globe to you. You're all amazing. Anyway!  
> All the love,  
> K.C - scullysgirl (lovelykenobi)


	8. You'll Believe in Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mulder parents are the spectacle of the Abduction Season fair, much to Mulder's chagrin, and Scully reunites with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing, I listened to "Body" by Karen O for Scully's part, and [this playlist](http://8tracks.com/rickardosanchez/you-re-part-time-lover-and-a-full-time-friend) for everything else. Hope you enjoy!

Everyone in town gathered for the opening ceremony of Abduction Season. It was a silly affair, with people wearing green big-eyed alien masks and shirts adorned with statements like “I want to believe.”

The Mulder parents were asked to speak, and they graciously accepted. Teena Mulder wrote for the local newspaper and was already well known for her work, and Bill Mulder worked in city hall. With the combination of their two professions, everyone in town already knew of them, and now were giving them all the attention and glory given to the parents of the first abduction of the year.

Bill Mulder wore his best suit, charcoal black jacket, complete with tie. Alien print. They both acted as if they were being commemorated for some great award or deed. Waving and blowing kisses, they walked to the stage and greeted the crowd with enthusiasm.

For the first time, Fox Mulder didn’t go. He watched Return of the Jedi with the other Gunmen, nursing a beer. The other three had thought about going, but opted out to comfort their friend. They argued over theories and plot holes, debating which of the three movies was the best.

The town was in celebration. Business would be booming again soon, Abduction Season was in! There was barbecue and corn on the cob and music playing, everyone eager for another incident.

Mulder would say later how insensitive it felt. A family was grieving, and they were celebrating. A child’s life was at stake, and they were licking their fingers clean of BBQ sauce. They were dancing in the grass, socializing with neighbours, conveniently forgetting the suffering that had to occur for this.

Samantha didn’t really matter to them. She was just a face on a screen, a page in the newspaper, one other person gone who they didn’t have to think about.

The ugliest part about the whole affair was that the Mulder parents went along with it. They were popular and worshipped. Of course! They were bringing business back to Federal! Their smiles weren’t strained with exhaustion and crying to the late hours, they were relaxed and easy, the smiles of people basking in their newfound fame.

Afterwards, they were treated to a steak dinner by the Mayor, as if they were commemorable for their child’s abduction. And they laughed and enjoyed the whole thing.

Mulder hadn’t spoken to them since the day he’d left. He didn’t have anything to say, because they hadn’t changed, they’d only gotten worse. They kept calling, begging to let them explain, to come home and talk, “I’m making your favourite and I want you to be here.” Everything they could do to get Mulder to come back, they’d try.

The Gunmen weren’t giving their opinion on the situation. They knew the culture, but they were seeing it firsthand, and the anger it created upon Mulder. So they kept quiet, offering support where it was needed. But otherwise, their opinion wasn’t shared.

Mulder had progressed from feeling everything to feeling numb. If he felt anything, it was anger. Pure rage, which dissolved into heaving sobs by the end of the night. The rest of the time, he just wanted to drink and watch movies.

He’d hadn’t been outside in weeks. Something dark and consuming had swallowed him, and he wasn’t fighting to get out anymore.

\---------------------------------------

Scully was thinking she would get people to start calling her Katherine instead of Dana. The latter seemed just too soft, too vulnerable and it reminded her too much of Monica. Everything reminded her of Monica. The vast desert, the stars, her bed, every song. It ached. When it didn’t ache, it stabbed.

Melissa said the pain would soften after some time, she just had to be patient with herself, and take good care. But the problem was that she didn’t want to wait for the healing. She wanted it done and over with already, and didn’t want to have to think of or address Monica ever again. Scully wanted to get along with her life, to bury all the feelings and never have to unearth them again.

So she kept busy. She went for work at the Observatory and sold keychains and mugs with a bright smile and a cheery attitude. After a while, she found that the more she worked and the less time she had for her mind to consume her, the better she felt.

At first, she had to resist Monica’s advances. The side looks given from across the room, the apologies, the midnight texts. But it lessened as the days continued. Scully assumed because she was making it pretty clear that she didn’t want anything to do with her, and that was final.

In her productivity, the displays shined. The shelves were completely organized, color coded and perfect. She cut her sandwich in perfect triangles, and avoided even a single speck of dirt on her shoes.

But God, sometimes it was unavoidable. She would break down with a heaving sob and a blanket on her shoulders, unable to calm the tidal wave inside her. No amount of rearranging the shirt display could fix the pain she was feeling, but she kept trying despite.

Every day she prayed. Prayed for the pain to go away, for some relief in the storm, for the constant ache she sheltered to waver. But nothing changed.

Although she had few friends, she reached out to those who she had kept close to. In her time with Monica, she’d closed off from many of her friends because “Monica was the only thing she needed.” It was a dumb mistake, but the future was unforeseeable. Everything had seemed perfect, at the time. She had been in love, and love was blinding.

It was Wednesday. Scully was sitting on a barstool drinking a milkshake. John was supposed to be at the diner at six. It was 5:45.

Sadness wasn’t sharp around her anymore. Lately it had just been the subtle cloud, a constant rain keeping her soaking wet while she just wanted to lay in the summer sun. Losing her felt so stupid. Monica, Monica, it could’ve been different.

The bell jingled. Scully looked behind her and John stood with his hands in his pockets, scanning for her. She waved. When he saw her, he smiled.

It was a bittersweet moment. She was less alone, but it was less alone by a different heart. Monica wasn’t there to keep her company anymore, and Scully felt like crying. With a sweep of her hand, she pushed her hair out of her eyes and stood to meet him.

John was significantly taller, and the hug was like falling into bed after a long day. When they broke, Scully had to wipe stray tears away. John’s smile was soft and genuine. Scully felt like she was breaking, just a little bit. She had a lot to say, and a lot of apologies to issue, and nothing could really make up for the distance she’d let fall between them.

Scully had forgotten what it was like to need someone other than Monica. She had forgotten what it was like to feel dependent.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hey.”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“Milkshakes on me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I waited so long to post this! I started school and I've been swamped with AP and so much else, but I finally finished it. I hope it's worthy of the wait.
> 
> Fun fact about this chapter: I wrote Scully working in the observatory because a cute girl in an observatory once complimented me on my Scully necklace. All credit to her !
> 
> As always, comments are my love and kudos are lovely. All the positive feedback I've recieved is absolutely awesome. I hope you all continue to enjoy it.  
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> XOXO,   
> K.C (scullysgirl)


	9. Time Will Help Us Mend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder finds hope in finding Samantha, and Scully reunites with an old friend.   
> (Happy New Year, guys!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing, I listened to the song "Dying to Meet You" by She's Only Sixteen.   
> I hope you enjoy!

“Mulder, you’re looking pale. It’s the middle of summer and you’re looking  _ pale,  _ man.” 

The three were staring at Mulder like a newest test subject. He felt pinned under a microscope. 

“Guys, I’m not looking pale. You just don’t have any freaking lights in this place. It’s like a dungeon.” 

   Frohike snorted. “ _ Sex  _ dungeon.”

     That prompted a smile. “Judging by the smell, the last time you had a girl in here--” Mulder faux sniffed. “Never.” 

The other two laughed, and Frohike feigned insult. “Says you, of course. Mister Ladies Man.” 

   The others laughed. “Come on and get showered and dressed, handsome. You stink like armpit.” 

  Mulder was in a particularly bad state, undeniable. He’d watched a lot of VHS recordings that the Gunmen had collected and bad television that was on, drank a lot of soda. He wasn’t too pretty but there wasn’t much energy left in him to shower and/or move. 

   But the Gunmen weren’t appearing to take no for an answer. Langly nodded towards the bathroom. “Well? That mop on your head isn’t going to clean itself.” 

“Jesus. You sound like my mother.”

Mulder turned up the shower the hottest it could go and felt it’s burn, wanting it to put out the feeling inside him, the pain and the frustration hotter than the sun. The pain of the water almost scalding his skin helped numb the destructive thoughts in his head. 

      Samantha could be in pain, she could be dead, she could be anywhere doing anything. 

Mulder pushed the thoughts out of his mind.  _ I’ve got to do something about this. I’ve got to bring her home. I’ve got to stop this.  _

__ He left the shower with a new motivation, a weak fire. The Gunmen would help. They could help Mulder find her, and they’d bring her home. 

_ I’m not giving this up. I’m going to see her again.  _

Not surprisingly, they ended up at the diner. The license plates on the cars outside were from every state but home, marking the beginning of the tourism season in Federal. 

“We’re hoping to make some money on these guys.” Frohike said, looking around at the cars parked in the lot. “Be able to print more pictures, maybe.” 

   “Speaking of the paper, I had some ideas for the next issue.” Mulder said, as they sat in their usual booth, all ordering sodas and fries. 

    “He speaks!” Frohike said sarcastically. With a nasty look from Mulder, he grinned. “Go on.” 

    “What about instead of an abduction story, we had an abduction recovery story. Someone lost and found. We could get great interviews and photos and everything. It would sell like hotcakes!” 

   The Gunmen stared back at him. “Mulder -- your idea is fantastic, don’t get me wrong -- but do you really think  _ we _ have a chance of finding Samantha?”

   He felt his stomach twist. “I don’t know if we have a chance. But I think we’re the only people who  _ will  _ look.” 

   Byers stared at the table. “Mulder, what if we find something we don’t want to find?” 

He hadn’t thought about that. What if they found his sister dead in the desert? What if they didn’t find anything at all? 

    Mulder steadied himself. “Listen. I know I’m doing this. I can’t just sit around and wait for someone else to start caring. If you guys aren’t with me, that’s fine, but I’m going to find her either way, or die trying.” 

The three exchanged a look. They were Mulder’s best friends, but sometimes it felt that the three of them spoke in some secret telepathic language between them, exchanging messages and sharing ideas constantly. 

Frohike bit his lip. “Mulder, it’s not like I’m not with you. It’s not like we’re not with you. It’s just that no one’s ever been found before. There hasn’t been a true investigation in years.” 

“And the chances of finding her are -- let’s say -- highly unlikely.” Langly added. “But that doesn’t mean that we  _ can  _ find her, I just don’t think that we should get our expectations up so high.” 

“But if you’re going to go through with this, you need us. We’ve got the gadgets and the resources and you can’t do this alone.” Frohike said, and the other two nodded. Again with the telepathy.

“So you’re in?” 

“Of course I’m in.” Langly said. 

“I’m in, too. And if we find her, we’re famous, boys.” 

Byers looked between his compatriots. “What’ve we got to lose? I’m in.” 

      Mulder weakly smiled. “Just our lives.” 

      And the pact was sealed, but there still wasn’t anywhere to begin. No one said anything, but there was an air of unsureness between them. 

   Across the diner set a girl with messy red hair sitting with someone who appeared to be her boyfriend. They were absorbed in a conversation, staring over milkshakes like they hadn’t seen each other in a hundred and ten years.  _ Ugh, couples.  _

Mulder remembered her mother, the scientist who his parents had gotten into a few kerfuffles with over the years. She was a hardcore debunker, really passionate about it, apparently. The Mulder parents despised her.  _ I wonder what her mom’s gonna say about this whole abduction thing?  _

Frohike seemed to have noticed her, too. “Hey Scully, tell your mom we’re finally gonna prove her wrong!” 

The girl looked over, grinning. “We’ll see about that, wackjobs.”

\---------------------------------------

Scully hadn’t realized until he was sitting there in front of her, his eyes steely but kind, as if everything around him was steadying the room. He wasn’t smiling like he used to, though.  _ My best friend. You were my best friend and I deserted.  _

“I’m really sorry for going awol on you for so long. It’s not because I didn’t care and it’s not like I didn’t miss you.” She felt her stomach twist with guilt and awareness of how selfish she had been. John’s brother had been abducted --although she didn’t like calling it that-- the year before she deserted in favor of Monica’s constant attention. 

The distance had never been official. The phone had just stopped ringing on both ends after a while, and then they stopped waiting by the locker. It was just hello’s in the hallway sometimes and nods other times, and slowly, it disintegrated.

“It was really selfish of me to leave you when you needed me. So incredibly selfish and I’m sorry. I’m an asshole and I don’t expect things to be the same ever again or for you to forgive me but I do want you to know I’m sorry.”

“Well I don’t think you aren’t an asshole.” 

He paused for a moment.  _ Seriously? That’s it? _

“But I did need you. And that was pretty selfish of you.” He looked away for a second, staring at the decorations spinning from the fans.

_ He’s mad. He’s mad and he won’t be able to forgive me-- _

_ I’ve got no one --  _

“But I don’t think that I can’t forgive you, and maybe things can’t be the same, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t be different and maybe even better.” He took a breath. “But you really fucking hurt me, Dana.” 

Scully felt her eyes well up with tears. “I know. I’m sorry.” The guilt washed over her, drowning her and swallowing her like some gigantic Monster of Bad Feelings. 

“I know you are. And I forgive you.” A hand rested on top of hers. “You’re still my best friend, Dana, and I don’t think that’s something we can lose, even if we tried.” 

      The walls she’d built around her heart for the big let down of John telling her he didn’t want her in his life any more collapsed and the flood rushed in. SHe slipped off her stool and wrapped her arms around John, not wanting to let him go. 

  “Hey. It’s okay.” He paused. “Are you okay?” 

Scully decided she’d put off the big news. “I just realized how much I missed you.” 

“Me too.”  

The conversation launched into one about all the time that they had spent apart. He told her about work and applying to colleges and she told him about Monica and school and her mom and eventually, breaking up with Monica. 

“I’m really sorry, Dana.” 

She pushed it off, realizing how easy it was to dismiss the pain about Monica when John was around. How he made her feel more stable, more strong. 

A yell came from across the diner, and she recognized the Lone Gunmen and the Mulder boy whose parents her mom hated so much.

John and her joked about the believers in the town. John’s parents were mostly indifferent and so was he. He was planning to go into the army after high school.

She thought about the fact that the Gunmen had called her  _ Scully.  _ Maybe better than Katherine, absolutely better than Dana.

“Hey John?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you call me Scully? Instead of Dana?” 

He grinned. “Scully. I like that.” 

  And then she realized: Scully could be a whole new person. She could begin a whole new life and leave Monica in the dust. This could be a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a New Year's present for all of you!   
> I tried to make this one more uplifting after some sad moments in the past few chapters, and introduced Mulder and Scully to each other officially (although only in passing!) They'll be truly meeting either the next chapter or the one after that. I'm liking how this story is unfolding, and I hope you guys are too!   
> I work really hard on these, and kudos and comments let me know that you guys are liking what I'm putting out, and that you appreciate it. They keep me writing!   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. I tried the "rich text" instead of the html formatting for the first time ever on this chapter, so if there are any weird transfers, that's probably why. Let me know if you catch anything. I beta everything myself, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!  
> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great rest of your day/night!  
> All the love (and happy New Year!)   
> K.C - scullysgirl


	10. In or Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys set off to find Samantha, looking both to believers and skeptics for answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing I listened to ["Bloody Shirt" (Bastille Remix) by To Kill a King](https://youtu.be/P00kfamddrI) but also just [this playlist](http://8tracks.com/cosmicbrownie/what-s-hiding-in-the-woods)  
> This chapter is super long and I worked super hard but I hope you enjoy it!

The Mulder parents were surprised to find their son standing on their doorstep. Bill Mulder took his stern father approach, aiming to make his son feel bad for disrespecting their decisions and their legacy. 

Teena Mulder quickly got emotional. “We knew you’d come back, we just knew it.” 

“I’m not back for you. I want to know everything about the last time you saw Samantha and any information you might have on her whereabouts.” Mulder said in a cold, clipping voice that took almost all of his energy to muster up. 

“Honey?” 

Mulder felt as if a hand was pushing up through his throat. His mother looked almost  _ betrayed.  _

_ It doesn’t matter. She’s all that matters. She’s why I’m here.  _

“I want to know everything you know about where Samantha could be.”

“Fox, what do you mean? You know what happened to her.” 

_ Not another fucking abduction story. No more bullshit.  _

“Mom, no more bullshit. Everything.” 

Bill Mulder seemed to grow a foot taller at Mulder’s tone and comment. “Do not speak to your mother like that, Fox.” 

“Listen. I see it like this. Either you don’t tell me and I leave and neither of us get anything out of it. Or you  _ do  _ tell me everything you know and I leave anyway, but you’ll gain some forgiveness for being selfish bastards.” 

Bill looked livid. “Excuse me?” 

Mulder tried to stand tall, feeling incredibly small and with the least leverage he could collect. His bargaining chips were small and his parents were stubborn. But this was the only starting place. 

The Gunmen watched from the van. They brought the video camera for documentation if the Mulders would give “testimony,” but from what they couldn’t hear and everything they could see, it didn’t look like it was going very well. 

“You heard me.” 

Teena gave a pleading look at her husband. What she was trying to say Mulder did not know, but he hoped it was a good sign. 

“Bill. We can’t lose anything from telling him. It might help him cope.” 

_ I can hear you?  _

He exchanged a look with his wife and nodded. “To be fair with you, Fox, we don’t know much at all.” 

Mulder waved the Gunmen out and they came with their video camera and notebooks. 

“Seriously, Fox?” 

His so-called entourage were obviously trying to make themselves look tough and as if they hadn’t eaten meals at the Mulder house all year and all the summers before. It was almost comical. 

Frohike nodded at the Mulder parents. “Mr and Mrs. Mulder.” 

Mulder had to disguise a snort as the beginning of a coughing fit, recieving a few questioning looks.

“Well, everyone come inside.” 

The house didn’t look any different. Mulder didn’t know what he had been expecting. A graveyard? A memorial? But it appeared that the Mulders had been living about the same as they did when both of their children lived there with them. 

“State your names for the camera, please.” 

“Melvin, you know our names.” 

Mulder gave them a frustrated look and they complied. Maybe he had more bargaining chips than he thought he had-- maybe they felt guilty. 

“Bill and Teena Mulder.” 

Byers was staring down at a sheet of questions that had obviously been quickly compiled-- probably in the van ride over. 

“Describe the last time you saw your daughter. Please include times, locations and any other details you might find important.” 

Bill shook his head, apparently put off with the professionalism of the encounter. Even from Mulder’s perspective, it was a little ridiculous, but it made him more grateful to the Gunmen. 

“It was about 3:00. Fox was out with--” he paused. “Friends, and we were going out for dinner together. Samantha was going to be home alone.” 

Mulder took a sharp breath.  _ I could’ve been here with her. I could’ve --  _

Teena interjected. “We told her to stay inside the house and keep all the doors locked while we were gone--” 

Langly interrupted. “Why did you tell her to lock the doors in a town with practically no crime? Where people can - and do - sleep with their back doors open?” 

Teena made a face. “Richard, you’re not a mother, but when you love your child, you make sure they take all precautions, even when they go against fact and logic.” 

She gave a look to Mulder that seemed to say  _ this is not my fault.  _

“When you returned from dinner?” 

Teena exhaled what sounded like the beginning of a sob and Bill retook control. “She was gone. We thought maybe she’d gone to Alice’s house down the block, but when we called her parents said they hadn’t seen Samantha. We walked around the block, knocking on doors to see it they’d seen her, but no one had. All the windows and doors were locked.”

Frohike nodded. “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Samantha? Do either of you have any enemies that would particularly stand out on wanting to hurt one of your children?” 

Bill seemed taken aback. “ _ Of course  _ I have enemies, Melvin, but no one would want to hurt Samantha. This is getting ridiculous.” 

Mulder had to bite his tongue, a few choice words trying to escape. 

“Do you have any idea of where Samantha might be?” 

Shocked, Bill Mulder replied, “son, do you think if I had any idea where my daughter was, I would be sitting here talking to you right now?” 

Byers wrote something down. 

“I think that concludes the interview, unless you have anything else you need to say.” Mulder tried to say it with sangfroid, but his voice came out shaky. 

“I’m sure that Scully woman has already compiled one of her files on the whole thing, we saw her outside taking photos yesterday. She even asked us if she could dust the windows for fingerprints. Can you believe the audacity?” This seemed to be question to Mulder. 

For a moment everything felt normal. Sitting around the dinner table talking about some “personal” enemy of the Mulder’s and the ridiculous thing they’d done today, Samantha and him kicking each other under the table and sharing secret smiles. 

Mulder felt his whole body run cold.

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Mulder, we’ll be going now.”  Frohike said, and the other two Gunmen began to collect their things. 

“Mulder, are you coming?” Byers said, as he approached the door. 

Teena grabbed his shoulder, trying to hold him back. “Fox, this isn’t our fault. We didn’t want to lose her either. She wasn’t just your sister. She was my daughter, too.” 

He pulled free of her grasp and headed towards the door, shaking with a concoction of anger and pain. 

“Thank you for your time.”

\---------------------------------------

Scully was curled up under a blanket, watching reruns and trying to drown her  mind when there was a knock at the door. It was 9 at night. 

Melissa looked up from her book. “You’re closer.” 

Scully groaned, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. The least unexpected quartet was standing on her front step. _ The Lone Gunmen?  _ This couldn’t be good. They were accompanied by the Mulder boy, the one whose sister had been in the papers and whose parents wouldn’t listen to reason. 

The one who’d hit on both her and Melissa was the first to speak. “Sorry to bother you at such a late time, _Dana._ Can we just talk to Ms. Scully?” 

The Mulder boy wasn’t paying any attention to the conversation. He was standing in the very back, looking everywhere but the doorway. 

“Uh, yeah. One second.” She turned around to address Melissa, who was apparently interested. “Where’s mom?” 

“In the study.” 

Scully gave her a look as if to say,  _ well, go get her!  _ And Melissa scrambled off of her chair. When she returned, mom had bags under her eyes and her hair was in a messy ponytail. She’d been working overtime, unable to spread her time evenly between mom duties, studying the anomalies on Federal, and trying to get her papers published, trying to get someone to listen to her. She looked tired. 

She brushed her hair out of her face and saw four teenage boys standing in her doorway. 

“We need your help, Ms. Scully.” 

She nodded, as if she knew exactly what was happening. Scully sure didn’t, and stepped out of the way as her mom ushered the boys in. 

“Tea? Coffee?” 

“No thank you.” The Mulder boy had finally spoken, wringing his hands. His eyes looked just as bagged as mom’s but he was a sort of messy-handsome, as if God had been both very careless and very careful when making him. His hair was really messy and his shirt was wrinkled and his eyes seemed completely lost until mom re-entered the room. He focused on her as he stirred the spoon in her coffee.

The boys had clumped together in a protective little pack but Frohike was still trying to catch her eye. Mom sat them all at the kitchen table and Scully was struggling to understand the context of the situation. 

“So I assume you’re here because you want to talk about your sister, and because you boys want to know something for that conspiracy paper of yours. ” She gave him a weak smile. “It’s Fox, right?”

_ Oh. That’s why.  _

“Yeah, it is, and yes I do. Sorry to intrude so late.”

“No, it’s alright. Sometimes people do come to see me. I just didn’t expect that anyone in your family would.” 

The other boys had resigned themselves to staring about the room, examining the china plates, the bookshelf with scientific journals. 

“Melissa, can you get the manilla folder on my desk? It should be labeled ‘Mulder, S.’” 

Fox seemed visibly upset at the mention. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Margaret offered, and he shook his head. Samantha came back with a thick folder. 

“Thank you, dear.” 

She laid it out on the table and the three boys suddenly seemed re-interested as she pulled out a map marked with X’s and lines drawn between them. Scully had never seen it before. 

“This is where I’ve found anything strange-- scientifically, I mean-- in my research. Some of the others have helped me. Some of them are weather phenomenons others are just unexplainable--” she paused. “I mean, unexplainable by the science we know today.” 

_ Something strange? Something unexplainable? No way, mom. No way.  _

“But others are just strange, stuff even I can’t put reason to. Some of these are carcasses and bones of animals that don’t live in this climate and  _ can’t survive.  _ And there’s more than that.”

Her eyes looked almost electric. Margaret now had a podium for research, for everything she’d put her years into. But admitting there wasn’t an explanation? That wasn’t like her. 

She pushed the map towards them, then pulling out some bags of soil samples labeled with names. Mulder, Johanssen, Smith-- the abduction cases.

“I’ve found these at every so-called abduction site so far. They appear to be some kind of soil. I’ve gotten it tested and a lot of it’s unidentifiable except for some of the mineral in it, which matches dirt samples I collected in the desert.” 

“I haven’t found any fingerprints at any of the scenes, but then again, my forensic science is incredibly unadvanced.” 

The Gunmen looked almost  _ giddy,  _ while Mulder studied the map and the bags she had given him. Scully knew of the Lone Gunmen newspaper thing. They sold issues of it for like, 99 cents at the Little Alien. 

“Everything I know is in this folder, and I have more in my study. I’ve collected as much data and evidence as possible the past few years but it keeps leading me to dead ends.” 

“Ms. Scully, may I -we, I mean- borrow everything you have on this?” Frohike asked, turning over the soil sample bags in his hand. “We’ll return it. It’s just for the paper, we’re trying to document everything. We want to  make an issue on the unexplained--” he paused, obviously trying to make it more appealing to the scientist sitting across from him “and the explained, in this town. We will credit you for everything we use, here.” 

She bit her lip. “You won’t make it some crazy radical UFO theory?” 

Scully almost wanted to snort.

The boys hesitated, unsure of the decision that they were going to make. Mulder was sure, however. This wasn’t about that, this was about finding Samantha. They couldn’t tell that to her, of course, she was an adult and she wouldn’t support them, no way. It had to be for the paper.

“No, we won’t.” Mulder said.

_ I’m sure you won’t.  _

“Alright. I’ll be right back.” Margaret stood and when she returned, she was carrying two boxes stacked on top of each other. “I warn you, this won’t be easy to write about. It doesn’t fit together.”

Scully had never seen her mother use words like  _ unexplained  _ easily, and here she was admitting that the work she was doing wasn’t fitting together entirely, it was unfinished and confusing and unclear.  _ Holy shit.  _

The boys nodded. “We understand. We can’t thank you enough, Ms. Scully.” Said Mulder, and Margaret smiled. 

They stood to leave, thanking profusely for her kindness and saying how much this would help. 

Margaret placed a hand on Mulder’s shoulder, and gave him a warm smile. “Fox, don’t go looking for something you can’t find. Leave that to me, and the rest of us, okay?” 

Mulder felt terrible. “Of course. Thank you for your hospitality.” 

Scully stared, blinking, as the boys left with manilla folders and boxes full of research she’d never seen before. Four teenage boys collecting  _ soil samples  _ and real scientific research to write a newspaper article?

_ All that? For a newspaper issue?  _

Something was wrong, really really wrong. They couldn’t use all that for a newspaper, and the map? She’d let them have the map, too. 

Mom was a smart woman, but she could also be really, really stupid. She couldn’t get her work published in any scientific journal so she’d trusted it with four 17 year olds, one whose sister had just gone missing. 

Scully ran out the door after them, barefoot. She found them outside, packing their new things back into that awful beat up van. When they saw her, they stopped, completely. 

“Did we forget something?” The blond one asked, Richard, Scully thought was his name.

“I know all that’s not for a  _ newspaper article. _ ” 

Mulder looked taller, now, studying her. “So?” 

“You can’t go looking. She even said you couldn’t. Everything is out there in the desert. You don’t know what you’ll find and you could even _die.”_

“Can’t you mind your own business,  _ Dana? _ ” Said Melvin, or Frohike, or whatever he’d wanted to be called. She’d punched him once or twice before. Good to know the name of someone you’d punched. 

“Did that black eye hurt last time,  _ Melvin?”  _

Mulder gave him a look. He hadn’t put two and two together before, that this was the girl Frohike had tried to hit on in his own “special way” and gotten punched for it.  _ This is her?  _

“So what do you want? A cut of the profits?” Langly asked, and Scully almost snorted.  _ Like there are going to be any profits.  _

Scully considered for a moment. She hadn’t really planned a course of action before coming out here. Was she really planning to talk them out of it? 

And maybe she was impulsive and heartbroken or maybe she was just bored and lonely but the answer came like it had always been ready, waiting in the wings. 

“I want in.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooo!!!! Mulder and Scully have finally met and the plot truly is unfolding . Friendly reminder I beta this all myself so if there are any weird bits of text or errors that I missed, please tell me! I am also looking for a beta reader for this story because editing is far from my forte, so comment if you're interested Otherwise, I am really liking how this is coming and I hope you guys are too.   
>  I'm working to put out as many updates as I can whenever I can, therefore they are kind of sporadic and random.   
>  Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm working very hard for you guys.   
> As always, if you enjoyed leave a comment and if you haven't already, leave a kudos! All love is very greatly appreciated and keeps me writing like a disorganized fiend.   
>  All the love,   
>  K.C, scullysgirl


	11. More Questions than Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes have an incomplete puzzle, a lot of questions, and venture into the desert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8tracks has listening limits now, so I will be picking my themed songs from my own music and not 8tracks playlists, but hopefully soon I will have finished a spotify playlist that you can all listen to while reading this ! Soooooon :)  
> ANYWAY while writing this I listened to ["Brushfire" by The Color and Sound.](https://open.spotify.com/track/50zUoJJxF7d6s0srSNxMBv)  
> Hope you enjoy!

Mulder’s first response, of course, had been no. “Absolutely not.” 

Scully pushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at him with a stubborn expression. “You’re acting like you have a choice.” 

Frohike exchanged a look with him, a cross between  _ don’t mess with her,  _ and  _ she’s hot.  _ “You don’t know what you’re getting into here.” 

She crossed her arms. “And you know that because…?” 

Mulder didn’t have a snappy retort or a way to push her off. He tried shooting daggers, hoping that would throw her off or discourage her. 

“It’s dangerous and we frankly don’t know what we’re doing.” Byers said, breaking a unspoken tension. 

“Then you’ll need me.” 

The Gunmen exchanged a look and Frohike looked towards Mulder for the cue. Mulder sighed, this only complicated things and the situation was already too complicated to begin with. 

“I’m not responsible for you. You’ll have to hold your own.” 

Scully felt almost like jumping up and down. For some reason it felt like  _ purpose  _ had been given back to her. “Fine.” 

“And he’s in charge.” Said Langly, nodding towards Mulder. Mulder wanted to object because he frankly didn’t want to be in charge, but Scully was already nodding. 

“Anything else?” 

“Yeah. Don’t do anything stupid.” Mulder said. He wasn’t sure if he liked her. She seemed to hold herself strongly but she also felt like a weight to drag behind, and he couldn’t have anything holding him back. Not even the Gunmen. “And meet us tomorrow at the diner.” 

Something about the whole endeavour had made Scully feel incredibly powerful. She was the one skeptic, the one in power because she was keeping their secret. And it gave her something to think about aside from Monica. 

The boys finished packing up and left. When they got back to Frohike’s house and had brought the boxes in, no one dared to speak. As if when they were opening the boxes they were cracking open every secret that had been kept from them. 

There were a lot of notes. Scribbles and sketches and bags with samples and rocks with strange etchings on them. Maps with markings of the houses of the abducted and locations of anomalies and who knows what else. 

Mulder felt his eyes dampen. This wasn’t what he had expected in the least. It was hope and possibility and the beginnings of answers. 

“According to her field notes, there’s no connection at all between the abductees. She’s been very thorough, checked background and age and the whole shebang.” Frohike said, sounding impressed. 

“She’s got pictures, here, of all the scenes, the places she found the soil samples, everything. There’s so much of it.”

It was like conspiracy Christmas morning.

Mulder hadn’t noticed the other three were looking at him. He had been thumbing through the papers and photos. 

“Mulder, how the hell are we going to find her?” Langly asked. 

His heart rate rose, incredibly peeved by the comment.  “I don’t know, but what were you expecting? A map that said ‘this is where she’ll be?’ Did you ever really expect that it would be that easy?” 

Langly looked hurt. “Man, I’m not looking for a fight here. It’s just there’s so much.” 

He was right. There was so much. Piles and piles of papers and field notes and samples and everything and none of it had a trail to follow, none of it gave any hint of where to start. 

Mulder raked his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes and feeling his heart throb in his head.  _ What if she’s really gone?  _

“There is. I’m sorry, Langly. I’m overwhelmed too.” 

Frohike’s mom knocked on the basement door. “Melvin? I’m ordering takeout. What does everyone want?” 

This was always summer. The four camping out at everyone’s house, ordering takeout and pizza and eating at the Little Alien, working on the paper and watching movies. Summer felt so much more complicated now. 

Mulder ate his drunken noodles, legs crossed, reading and rereading what Margaret Scully had on Samantha. Food was a little easier to eat, and he didn’t have to force it down and try to keep it. 

Margaret Scully had some information she’d obviously gotten from Samantha’s friends, the note  _ parents won’t share medical history or speak to me at all.  _ That had made Mulder laugh-- he could only imagine her standing on the doorstep and trying to talk dad into letting her know  _ anything.  _

“Hey guys, I could something!”  Byers waved them over and  everyone crowded around him. “There’s some places that the anomalies have gathered around specifically, certain latitude and longitude points out there in the desert. Most of the animal skeletons have been found in a general radius of each other, the stones were found near each other, too.” 

“Had she examined this yet?” 

“No, I don’t think she’s noticed it.” 

“Langly, are you getting this?” Langly responded by typing faster. 

Mulder’s heart raced. “We need to go out there, guys.” 

The decision was made unanimously because no one could find a good reason to  _ not  _ go out there, despite all apprehensions. They dropped Byers and Langly off, where Mulder knew they went home to families that were still whole. 

Frohike’s couch was starting to feel more like home than Mulder’s bed did, at least in his head. He thought about his parents and what his mother had said, that it wasn’t their fault. 

Mulder didn’t know if he could forgive that, though. Even if they were suffering, they had profited off it, and they had accepted it. They were loved by the town for bringing the people back, and Mulder knew his parents loved the attention more than they suffered from the disappearance of their daughter. That just didn’t seem forgiveable.  

Mulder had dreams about Samantha. Bickering but always messing with each other, Mulder stealing her hairbrush and the two arguing over what to watch when mom and dad were gone. He missed that, all the normal things. 

And he dreamt about her funeral. He dreamt their parents dressed in their alien themed clothing and their smiles, trying to be modest but soaking up the “sorry for your losses” and the hugs, the wet eyes and all the attention they craved. 

\---------------------------------------

     Scully was early, stirring a curly straw in an alien head glass and chewing on the decision she had made. Was it really the right decision, to join them? Why did it mean anything to her in the first place?

She hadn’t told Margaret, which was not something that happened often. Her heart was buzzing with a weird sensation, adventure and anxiety. Maybe she wasn’t sure why she had wanted in, but that didn’t mean that it was a bad decision, right? 

It felt like impulse. Probably the impulse to spend her time doing something other than staring at pictures of Monica. Impulse to mean something?

Maybe she just missed being around believers, with their seemingly endless faith that kept them going, day and night. That was something that skeptics didn’t have. Mom doubted herself a lot, questioning her theories and second guessing herself. 

Scully couldn’t even imagine the Mulder boy doing that. Even if he was weird and seemed like he didn’t belong on earth and just accidentally crash landed here, he seemed to hold himself. 

The bell jingled and the four boys entered. Frohike made finger guns at her and she couldn’t resist laughter. He was cheesy but he ran on that same power generator of faith that she so envied. She ran out of faith so much lately. 

She’d gone in favor of plain jeans and a t-shirt with dirty converse, not knowing whether they were just talking or actually going out. The boys were dressed in wrinkled t-shirts and jeans. Scully marveled at how easy it was for boys to just  _ not care.  _

The Mulder kid -- jeez,  _ Fox, _ \-- sat to the far end of the circular booth, so he was sitting directly across from Scully. Weirdly handsome. She pushed it out of her mind. It was just a pity crush, anyway. 

“We found something last night, going through your mom’s files.” Frohike began, and walked her through the anomalies and the locations where they clustered. 

Fox hadn’t spoken much, except for to add in what he knew. He wasn’t as involved and eager in the conversation. He seemed  _ frustrated  _ about something, looking almost as if he wanted to fight the fry basket on the table.

They pinpointed a specific location on the map, finishing their milkshakes by spooning out the whipped cream, and left.

“Where’s your car?” Byers asked, and Scully looked down, sheepishly. 

“I rode my bike.” 

She expected some kind of sarcastic retaliation, but no one seemed to care. She’d always been embarrassed about being uncomfortable driving, and that had got her a lot of shit from a lot of people. 

“Throw it in the back, then.” 

Frohike threw his keys up high and caught them, while Langly and Byers rochambeau’d for shotgun. After two rounds of best-of-three with no clear winner (they kept getting the same one, ) they both decided to sit in the front seat, Langly on Byers lap, which Scully found both ridiculous and entertaining. 

Strangely, it felt like they were almost her friends. 

Her and Fox piled in the back, him still quiet. 

“You’re quiet today, Fox.” 

That prompted a smile. “Call me Mulder, almost everybody does.” 

Scully supposed that there was a certain type of person who preferred being called by their last name.  “Call me Scully, then.” 

His smile was really, really nice. The kind of smile that felt like Scully was stealing it, like she wasn’t supposed to be seeing it. 

“I’m sorry about being a dick yesterday. I just want to find my sister and I didn’t want to have to bring someone else along.” 

“You changed your mind, then?” 

“You don’t seem too bad. You covered the milkshakes, after all.” She laughed. 

It was the middle of the day and the sun made the desert god’s oven. Scully pulled her hair into a ponytail and put on her sunglasses, trying not to think that today she’d be at the pool with Monica, laughing and kissing and-- 

_ Not now.  _

Byers was leading the group, holding the map. Around them was a wide expanse of sand and in front of them were the cliffs, which held a series of caves. She’d explored some of them when she was a kid, with Melissa, and then later with Monica.

A crunching sound under her foot brought her back to reality. She’d stepped on a bone, which was far from uncommon. 

“Hey guys,” she waved her compatriots over. “I found a skeleton.” 

She brushed aside the sand, revealing a very small skeleton. It could fit in her hand. Mulder picked it up and the resemblance was strikingly similar to something she’d seen in her biology textbook- 

“Am I the only one who think that looks a lot like a human fetus?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS! I'm trying to get to a regular update schedule of posting 2-3 times a month, so it will probably be an update on the 7th, 14th, and the 28th of every month. I have a very rigorous class schedule but I will be posting, unless everything else goes wrong, a MINIMUM of once a month on one of these days.  
> This is 2nd update for January, so expect another on the 14th or 28th.  
> Now that's out of the way, I hope you guys liked this! Oodles and oodles of adventures are on the way.  
> I beta all of this myself (and am looking for a beta reader, let me know if you can!) and if there are any weird things, that's why. Let me know!  
> If you haven't already, leave a kudos and I love to hear what you think, so comment! Comments and kudos keep me going and let me know you appreciate my stuff.  
> Lots of love,  
> K.C, scullysgirl


	12. In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The troupe travels farther into the desert and into the caves, and Mulder finds the first hint of real proof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOTIFY MIX IS IN THE WORKS!  
> While writing I listened to "Ends of the Earth" by Lord Huron.  
> Hope you enjoy!

The group decision was unsure. Scully was on the “absolutely not” side. It was  _ not  _ a human fetus, probably just a rabbit fetus or something along those lines. Mulder didn’t want to believe such, and the Gunmen were absolutely enthralled by the idea that they had just found a human fetus in the desert. 

So the group trekked on, significantly more uneasy. Being in the desert just felt wrong, like they were intruding on a party they weren’t invited to. Frohike and Mulder led the group, bickering about something. 

It was starting to become obvious to Scully how little prepared they were. They had absolutely no idea what they were looking for or where they were going.  _ Well, what did I expect?  _

“So, into the caves?” 

Mulder looked around them. “I guess so.” 

They had been inching towards the cliffs, kicking up dirt and hoping to find something, Byers and Langly trying to pretend they were collecting something important (dirt) and then later collecting something even more important (more dirt.) 

And it was hot, too, hellishly hot, and Scully felt herself burning although she’d lathered on as much sunscreen as possible. She took out and redid her ponytail, feeling the sweat dripping into her eyes. The others were sweating even more.

To get up in most of the caves big enough to fit humans, you had to climb the rocks. They had plenty of handholds and footholds, and Scully knew she could do it, but she wasn’t entirely sure about the others. Maybe Mulder, but she was pretty sure the others had seen most of Mother Nature on a VHS tape. 

She went up the outcrop first, carrying her bag and catching the other bags, which were apparently  _ literally full of rocks.  _ Byers made the climb relatively easy for being build like a twig, and Frohike lost his foothold and almost fell, scraping the hell out of his hand, but also made it. Langly hadn’t ever rock-climbed before and needed some instructing. 

Scully coached him through it with the same voice she remembered her father using when he’d taught her. It hadn’t been out on the cliffs but she recalled his soft, instructing tone and his repetition of “handhold then foothold, handhold then foothold.” 

Langly made it okay, but Mulder’s shoes had bad traction and he almost fell. She had to grab him and pull him up, almost going down with him, until he recaught his foothold and made his way up the ledge. 

“Thanks.” 

They had to stoop inside the cave. With it’s close proximity to the ground, it was unsurprisingly littered with beer cans and trash, which Scully put into her bag. The desert was supposed to be forbidding place and these people had dared it just to trash it?  

It was dark and the flashlight that Mulder had in his bag was low on battery and didn’t help much. 

The ceiling vaulted and they could stand up fully. Laying on the ground was a ratty, dirty blanket that had apparently been there for some time. 

“Don’t want to know what happened on that thing.” Mulder said, and the Gunmen laughed. It even captured a smile from Scully. 

The cave reached up what felt like a thousand miles, all darkness. Ahead of them was a wide gap in the rock, enough to crawl through. It did not seem very permit

“Whose first to go into the creepy cave tunnel?” Said Frohike, and everyone stepped back, excluding Mulder. 

“How sweet of you guys.” Mulder said, kneeling and staring into the gap. 

“Hey, you don’t know, there could be free pizza in there.” 

Mulder smiled. “Wait until I tell you guys before coming in, okay?” 

Scully almost wanted to snort.  _ Yeah, the real hero type.  _ “Thanks Hercules.” 

Mulder crawled in the hole and for a moment everything was silent, their breaths the only things filling the silence. Frohike, Langly and Byers all exchanged a look, the kind that said:  _ I’ve got a bad feeling about this.  _

 

\---------------------------------------

The tunnel was awfully dark and Mulder couldn’t help but imagine how Samantha was afraid of the dark and claustrophobic and if she was stuck in here--  _ oh god, she’d feel so terrified.  _

He kept going, his flashlight barely illuminating anything in front of him and Mulder all of a sudden felt so scared, so small inside of the great expanse of rock swallowing him whole. The whole bravery thing was more of a mask: just the persona he took on to comfort himself and the others. 

The tunnel suddenly sloped downward and Mulder adjusted positions to slow his sliding down the rock. When he reached the floor of the lower cave, he lost his balance and almost tripped and impaled himself on a stalagmite.  _ Close one.  _

He stood and tried to brush the dirt and spiderwebs off his shirt. 

In the center of the grotto was a dark, dirty pool of water. Mulder had belt to examine it when he heard a faint call from down the tunnel 

“Mulder?” It was Scully’s voice sounding -- worried? Nah. 

“It’s cool. Come down here.” 

Mulder faintly heard a scuffle down the tunnel, probably the Gunmen arguing over who to go first. He went back to the careful examining of the area around him, although the flashlight seemed to be getting dimmer by the moment. 

Scully was the first to come out of the tunnel, unsurprisingly. The Gunmen were a lot of big talk. 

“Mulder?” She located the weak beam of light. He was kneeling at the edge of the pool, staring down into it as if expecting it to reveal some secret.

“I haven’t been here before. I didn’t even know there was any kind of water down here. Pretty cool, though.” Scully said, waving her hand through the water and sending ripples.

Frohike interrupted the weird silence as he came down the tunnel reciting the  _ Star Trek  _ monologue-- finishing strongly with the “to boldly go, where no one has ever gone before.” 

That broke Mulder’s silence, and as he laughed, his flashlight dipped to reveal something floating on the far corner of the pool. Fabric, maybe?

“Mulder, there’s something over there.” 

He rose and walked over, carefully scooping it up and turning it in his hand, shining the flashlight to see it. It was a bracelet, the kind you made with thread and wove at summer camp, a friendship bracelet sort of thing. 

Samantha had something similar, with her name and a heart symbol on it. She was so proud of it, despite that it was fraying and wasn’t made perfectly. She never took it off, even in the shower and the swimming pool. 

Wait, hold on. 

The water had faded the colors and the design significantly, but-- 

That was Samantha’s. With the pink thread and the ratty tie from summers of dirt and swimming pools. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TA DA!  
> Sorry this one was kind of short, but I hope the plot is unfolding. I had a LOT of writer's block with this one which was a huge struggle. Tying Mulder and Scully's stories together has been hard because I want to keep their voices distinguishable. I hope you enjoyed it, it took forever.  
> Reminder that I beta this all myself (looking for a beta reader, though!) and if there are any mistakes that is why. Please let me know if you find anything I missed.  
> As always, please leave a kudos if you haven't already, and comments mean the world to me. They keep me happy, motivated and writing! Thank you all so much for keeping up with this story and supporting it.  
> XOXO,  
> K.C, scullysgirl


	13. The Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While writing I particuarly liked "Sleeping Alone" By Lykke Li for Scully's part, and "Believe" by Mumford and Sons for Mulder's part. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU THOUGHT THIS FIC WAS DEAD, HUH?  
> WELL I'M BACK BECAUSE IT'S SUMMER AND I'VE GOT P L A N S !  
> Enough shouting, but I really hope you enjoy this chapter. We're back in business baby! As always, comments and kudos are appreciated because feeling appreciated helps me keep writing for you guys.  
> Lots of love,  
> XOXO KC

Mulder froze, cold despite the explosion happening inside of him.  _ This was real.  _

She was here.  _ She was here.  _

“Mulder, what is it?” He didn’t know how to reply to Frohike. His world was shaking down, an earthquake and a tsunami and a tornado.  _ How did this get off her? How is it here?  _

The panic overwhelmed him. The fear and dread bubbling up inside of him, combining into nothing but a shout. “Samantha?” 

There was no response.  _ Of course there is no response she’s not here she’s not here but she  _ was  _ here.  _

“Mulder?” 

He took off running, because she had to be here, didn’t she? Couldn’t she be close Mulder prayed to every god that she’d just be  _ here  _ but of course every god knew she couldn’t unless there was something --  _ someone  _ \-- else here with here. 

There was a thunder in his head, the storm thumping against his skull. “Samantha?” 

All logic and reason was lost. Mulder felt like he was choking, his throat being compressed as he ran deeper into the cave. It seemed to forever and ever, deeper and darker. His flashlight was unimportant.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned, ready for a fight, to find Scully. “Mulder, it’s me.” 

Mulder was out of breath. He handed to the bracelet to her, his hand feeling empty without it, to Scully. She examined it, saw the writing. Sharp intake of breath. 

“Mulder…” 

_ Don’t say it. Don’t say it don’t you dare.  _

“She’s not here.” 

The anger inside of him, his heart thudding against him, a furnace of heat and panic and fear. “You don’t know that! You don’t know anything!” He shouted, the disappointment and anger spilling out of his pores. 

“Mulder, be reasonable. If she was here then she would have found her way back out to the surface.” 

“She’s afraid of the dark, Scully! She  _ hates  _ enclosed spaces! I’ve seen her so paralyzed by fear that she’s unable to move!” 

_ Maybe she’s right but she can’t be right she can’t be she can’t--  _

“Mulder--” 

“Shut UP. Stop pretending you know.” 

In the dim light, Scully looked hurt.  _ She’s just trying to help.  _

But she’s wrong. 

“Mulder, she would have called back to you.” 

It’s Langly’s voice. He’s braced for the punch back, the angry comment. But he’s not wrong. Samantha isn’t just conveniently stashed in these caves. 

“Come on.” Frohike. “Let’s get out of here.” 

It takes everything in him to leave because  _ what if she’s here, what if she needs me  _ but the others lead him out back into the sunlight through the crawling tunnel and the great cave walls, it’s expanse full of questions Mulder can’t answer and secrets he can’t unearth. 

Mulder couldn’t help but wonder if while they were in the caves, the world had changed around them. They’d walked out the same way but into a different universe, a universe, Mulder hoped, where Samantha was at home treasuring the air conditioning and an otter pop, where mom and dad were being strange but lovable. 

No more jokes and laughter came from the group. A silence had passed between them, a sickening concoction of fear and dread. Somehow, Samantha had been there, or 

The desert twisted in front of Mulder, the sun slipping from its throne. Mulder threw up, his eyes repeating again and again the same images of her bracelet in the water, the darkness and the dank air of the caves. 

In the background of his heaves Mulder heard something about  _ we’ll give you some space, we’re here when you’re ready.  _

He felt a pressure on his shoulder and found Scully beside him, her eyes searching and comforting. She was blurry through the tears and he didn’t want to imagine what he looked like, sick with fear and the stones sinking in his stomach. 

“Every time one of them gets--” with her free hand she took Mulder’s. “ _ Taken,  _ she prays for them. Every night she’s been praying for them since we moved here. My mom, I mean. She always prays for them.”  

Mulder felt the weight of the sky and the burning of the sun sink down below the two of them like a down blanket, heavy and hot, slathered with grief. The world’s falling, he thought. Can’t you see it? 

“I’ve never seen her so upset than when she learned about Samantha.” 

Mulder was a stone statue and a crack was spreading down his spine. He couldn’t locate the words.  _ Grateful.  _  So unbelievably grateful for Scully and her mom and the words that split him. 

Mulder broke down in the hardest sobs, rattling through him; his body a cage for the storm trapped inside of him. The sun was setting and Mulder was shaking the desert like an earthquake. 

“What if she’s dead?” 

The bracelet was soaking through his pocket, a brick dragging him to the bottom of the river. 

\---------------------------------------

The car ride was heavy with words unspoken. Mulder sat with his head on Scully’s shoulder, and she didn’t say anything because she knew that there was nothing to say, nothing that he wasn’t already thinking. There weren’t any comforting words, either, because she was pretty sure Mulder’s world was crashing down around him and “I’m sorry’s” and “It’ll be okay’s” wouldn’t hold it up. 

So she just let him stay there, thinking about how the most comfort is found in strangers. How she was the stranger, and how much this reminded her of when dad died. 

Scully felt hot with the realization of her selfishness, how she’d thought that maybe she would find dad out there in the caves, in the desert with Mulder and his friends. How unbelievably ridiculous it was to hold on to the hope that after all these years he’d just be standing there, waiting for her. 

She felt like she’d used Mulder and his friends, too. They were honest people trying to find Samantha, and Scully had tagged along, an interloper. And here was this broken boy, eyes closed, against her and it made her feel terrible. The fact that Samantha hadn’t been there for them, she’d came with her selfishness and self-delusion. 

Frohike and Langly said nothing, while Byers stared out the window. The whole group was shell-shocked, partial truths; explanations absent. As they drove back into the town, Scully felt a weight in her stomach sinking like a stone. Everything had changed for the five of them, nothing had changed here. 

It was still the middle of summer in the heat of the celebration. Tourists packed the motels and the sightseeing attractions, flooded the swimming pools. Complete outsiders. 

Scully realized what it might feel like to be Mulder, to see the disappearance of your own sister celebrated like Christmas or Halloween: treated like a novelty; decorations and parties and celebrations; your pain buried and meaningless. 

She couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Melissa disappeared and no one cared-- in fact, they  _ celebrated  _ it-- she would be throwing punches and here Mulder was, curled up against her, his strength fueled by one thing: to find his sister. 

Or dad. 

Scully understood, then, that she wasn’t going to stop until she got this boy some answers. No more half-truths and cover ups. He would get the whole truth and Samantha back and safe and then he could feel peace. 

This cause was Mulder’s, but it was hers now, too. She was committed. 

\--------------------------

Mulder woke up on Frohike’s couch, with a pile of blankets tucked in around him. The fan overhead was blowing, and it took him a few moments to come back to reality. His memories weren’t a dream. 

His shoes were coated with wet sand, and Mulder’s stomach turned over. In a damp pocket was a drying bracelet, faded but surely Samantha’s. The grief and the panic washed over him again, burning his skin and filling his throat. Hot lava. 

_ Fuck. _

He was powerless against this. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t pull together a manhunt, fire a gun or go hunting for her all on his own. And she was gone. She was unsafe. They could be hurting her right now she could be trapped she could be dying-- 

The panic was a weight in the middle of his chest, crushing down on his ribs and squishing his lungs, snapping his spine in two pieces, breaking him breaking him killing him-- 

He couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t air left. He was free floating in space and the air wasn’t here, he was being sucked into the vacuum and his skin was shriveling and freezing over, his organs bursting with the pressure whatever else happened in the cold endless void of space--

He was hyperventilating, his chest squeezing in-- 

A fist connected with his face, breaking him from the trance, the panic. Scully brushed her hair out of her face. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Get a grip, Mulder. We can’t find Samantha if you’re dead.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think !


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftershocks of everything that happened.   
> Finally some SOLID Mulder/Scully interaction. Waaaa!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN UPDATE APPEARS ON THE HORIZON OH MY GOOOOD!!!  
> I'm sorry I left this fic for so long. I PROMISE that I am not finished with it. I am not leaving it, I am writing this whole damn thing. Swear on Scully herself.   
> I hope people that have read this story are still here, still listening, and still want to read it. I couldn't be more grateful.   
> I listened to the officially made playlist for this while I was writing this, so check that out if you want something to listen to while reading. (Linked in previous chapters.)   
> As always, kudos and comments (especially comments) mean the absolute world to me, but beyond everything, I appreciate your reading.   
> All the love,   
> XOXO KC

Scully couldn’t stop thinking about the caves. It was burned into the backs of her eyelids, the caged-animal look that Mulder had in his eyes-- he was so terrified. 

Mulder had fallen asleep shortly before, but she stayed next to him, stroking his hair. Something about leaving him felt so unbelievably wrong. He had fallen asleep almost clutching onto her, his face red from the punch. It wasn’t the best decision, really, to punch him. But she’d panicked… the way he was hyperventilating and shaking, like he was going under or something. 

Scully knew that whatever happened she wasn’t going to let this boy lose himself. It didn’t make sense, the strange bond they had, him tortured by the present and Scully tortured by the past. But she wasn’t going to let him go. 

She tried to push her dad out of her mind. In Mulder’s desperate search for Samantha, her panic, she saw her mother. A woman who didn’t want to believe but  would do anything to find her husband. Scully remembered her mother on the floor, crying, begging to God to bring him back. 

Dad had been a believer in those sorts of things. He loved to read articles in the paper on so-called “Sasquatch sightings” when they traveled in the family camper. He collected newspaper clippings and taped the programs on “proof” of some urban legend. 

It made him so unbelievably happy, the belief in something more, something supernatural beyond him.  He had those cheesy shirts proclaiming that he wanted to believe and despite the flack he got from Mom, he never stopped believing. 

_ Maybe that’s why mom hated it so much. Because something dad loved could’ve been the thing that took him away from us. _

Scully sat back from Mulder. In his sleep, he made a small sound and rolled onto his other side. 

_ I can’t let him be alone. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this…  _

Scully sat back and closed her eyes, letting the weight of the experience, the day, the emotions, fall over her like a weight. Her chest felt so heavy, with all of this. 

She barely knew any of these people, and now she was sitting in Frohike’s basement on his really old -- but  _ really comfortable --  _ couch. Everything that had happened today, the desert, the caves, felt like she’d seen it from a different person’s eyes. Someone else had moved her legs through that caves, had punched Mulder, had sat with him until he fell asleep. 

It made her feel better, to imagine that this was just her watching another movie, another documentary on UFOs… this wasn’t her life. This was someone else’s weird frameshift. She’d gone from losing someone to falling into a mess of conspiracy and things she didn’t understand or even really believe in, at all. It felt like too much. 

      Scully kept her eyes clothes, pondering how the universe through a telescope was so big, yet so small, and how she wished she could watch this part of her life from far away, through a spyglass, how much better that would feel. She just wanted to get away, from all of it. From thinking about Dad, from Fox Mulder and his tears and his unending belief and his  _ fear.  _

She didn’t want to run away from this, but she didn’t belong here. She didn’t believe in this stuff. 

      Eventually the weight of exhaustion overtook her and her busy, overwhelmed thoughts, and she fell asleep. 

     ---------------

Fox Mulder’s nightmares were barely coherent. 

The drip, drip, dripping off a stalactite into a pool made of darkness, deeper by every moment. The darkness all-consuming and eating everything surrounding it, swallowing the cave, the walls, him, 

And a girl screaming -- 

Samantha screaming. 

But the water was too deep to swim out, no place to go but up. The water was rising too fast, reaching the top of the cave, swallowing him, swallowing the world. 

And the screaming, still the screaming. 

He awoke, cold from the fan blowing above him. There was a weight on his stomach, and when he sat up enough, he could see it was Scully asleep on him, her hair draped across his midsection. 

    She looked pretty that way, the fiery element of her personality lost in her sleep. She stirred slightly, nestling further into him. 

  Mulder felt his heart flutter, just slightly. 

   Dana Scully, asleep on him, in Frohike’s basement. 

   The world became more out of tune everyday. The truth didn’t seem to exist anymore. It was like every truth Mulder had known had shifted just slightly to the left, just tilting the appearance of the world. 

_ Dana Scully, asleep on him, in Frohike’s basement.  _

   Samantha was gone, there was a fetus in the desert, her bracelet was in a cave… This wasn’t the world. This was a dream state. The camera of life just a little bit out of focus. 

   Mulder felt sick. He tried to shift as not to wake Scully up, but it was unsuccessful. He scooted past her and went straight for the bathroom. He stood in front of the dirty mirror, splashing water on his face. Splotchy skin. Messy hair. Red mark on his right cheek. 

_ She does throw a good right hook.  _

  There was a creaking behind him, and Scully opened the bathroom door. Her eyes were foggy with sleep, and she stood back, surprised. “Oh, sorry. I’ll give you a moment.” 

   When Mulder left the bathroom, she was standing outside, a little more awake than before. “You stayed.” 

    “I stayed.” 

  Mulder couldn’t formulate any words to say to the girl that had punched him and then fallen asleep on him, all in the same day. 

     Scully yawned. “Are you gonna, or-?” 

Mulder realized he was still standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “Oh. Yeah, sorry.” 

    When she came back out, her hair was fixed a litte. Less messy with sleep. 

  “I’m sorry for punching you, I-”

   “Nah. It’s okay, Dan- ah, shit.  _ Scully. _ You’re the only person I’ve ever met who would’ve had the balls to do that. I respect you for it.” 

      “Oh.” She made a surprised face. Scully opened her mouth to say something, but held back. “Mulder, can we talk about everything in the morning? I don’t wanna seem like a bitch or anything. I just… I’m beyond exhausted.”

    This made Mulder smile. “Yeah. That’s fine with me.” 

He sat on the couch and Scully took back her position on the floor. 

   “You can’t sleep down there. That’s beyond ridiculous.” 

Scully looked slightly offended. “I already did it!” 

   “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have let that happen then, either.” He adjusted so that she could sit next to him, his legs half folded. She reluctantly obeyed, half curling into him. 

Scully rested her head on his shoulder. 

   “There’s just too much happening in the world right now for my neurons to comprehend.” 

Mulder nodded. “I get what you mean.” 

   “Goodnight, Mulder.” 

    “Goodnight, Scully.” 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it.   
> I'd love to hear what you think :)


	15. Connecting Threads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery continues to unfold. Scully deals with feelings, or doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do something a little lighter after the past chapters, so here's this! Promising more frequent updates (I've been breaking schedule a LOT, sorry!) and lots more of the MSR everyone wants.   
> Anyways, my playlist for this fic is linked in past chapters. It's great to listen to while you're reading!   
> I hope you enjoy !  
> XOXO   
> KC (scullysgirl/lovelykenobi)

  Fox Mulder was all limbs, and when Scully woke up, she was tangled in them. The sun fell through the tiny basement gutter window over his sharp features, illuminating not just his beauties but his imperfections. 

      Scully did not like how she felt, looking at him. 

   She peeled herself out of the nest of Mulder and the couch. He smelled like deodorant and fabric softener, with a hint of something indescribably masculine and  _ him.  _ Mulder made a sound and shifted but did not wake up. Scully thanked her lucky stars. 

   She did  _ not _ like how she was feeling. 

  Scully went to the bathroom and remarked on herself. Messy hair, tired eyes. Just like after dad left. She raked her fingers through her hair. It had little impact. 

   She hadn’t checked in last night, but she was pretty sure that Mom wouldn’t care. Scully feared though, that she would be papering the walls again with yellow string and photographs of those reported missing, newspaper articles of UFO sightings in local areas. She would lose herself again, so desperate to prove everyone wrong. 

      So desperate to find Dad. 

The basement door slammed open and Frohike came stomping in with Langly and Byers close behind. Mulder, apparently something of a heavy sleeper, did not wake. 

      Scully pressed a finger to her lips and the boys were quiet. Frohike looked around the room, nodding at her when he saw Mulder asleep on the couch. “Let’s go upstairs.” He whispered. 

    She followed them upstairs. Scully hadn’t taken much notice to Frohike’s house the past night, but it was far nicer than the basement. On the coffee table in the living room, the boxes from Mom were empty, the folders, notes, and assorted samples spread out. Several pieces of paper with notes and other snippets - presumably from the boxes - were as well. There was an open stapler on one cushion. 

    Scully yawned. “How long have you guys been up?” 

Frohike bent down to examine the materials on the table. “A few hours.” 

    Scully looked at the clock on the mantle. It read 9am. She wasn’t too much for using her brain before at least 8. She moved to closer examine the wall. A map of Federal, seemingly from an Atlas, was tacked on the wall. A few locations had been highlighted in yellow -- the cave, the general location of the Mulder house, a few other locations on streets she hadn’t recognized: presumably the houses of other abductees? 

     A feminine voice entered the room. “I made breakfas-- MELVIN FROHIKE WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY VINTAGE WALLPAPER!” 

   Scully snapped around and saw who she assumed to be Frohike’s mom. She turned around again and watched as Frohike dropped the stapler and the newspaper article.  _ Abduction Number Three Occurs this UFO Season.  _ June 1983. 

     Frohike bowed his head. “Newspaper stuff.”

     She stormed to the wall and inspected what was there.  “Newspaper stuff? Staples and thumbtacks?” She glared at him. “Melvin, do you KNOW how long this house has been in our family?” 

      He looked at her sheepishly. Under his breath, he said, “Since 1945.” 

   “You will spend your next weekend fixing the holes in this wall, Melvin.” 

    He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. “Yes, Mom.” 

     She nodded curtly. “Breakfast is ready.” With that, she left. 

   The four of them were still eating when Mulder came upstairs. His eyes were still sleepy and his hair was stuck up in almost every angle imaginable.  

    “Good morning, Fox.” Frohike’s mom greeted him warmly. 

   “Morning everybody.” He took a buttered biscuit off Langly’s plate, ignoring his objection as he took a bite out of it. 

   Scully couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt to fall asleep with him. She shoveled another plate of eggs into her mouth. 

     Mulder took a seat in the open chair next to Scully. 

    “Marghning,” he struggled to say through his bite of biscuit. Scully grimaced, thinking about how boys were much nicer when they were sleeping -- they couldn’t speak or make fools of themselves. 

    “Mulder, we’ve been working on the stuff for the new article.” Frohike said, his voice raising at the end in hope that Mulder would get the hint. 

   He stayed quiet. “Cool.” 

Frohike kicked him under the table. “You know, the new article? The  _ really special  _ one?”

  Mulder gave him a quizzical look. “Yeah…” 

     Scully couldn’t help but laugh, earning a warning look from Frohike. His mom didn’t notice. Still, Scully smiled at the confused look on Mulder’s face. Lost but loveable. 

\-------

         Mulder followed his friends into the living room. He observed the wall and the scattered papers, the stained and beaten up cardboard boxes. 

    It was like being in the FBI or something. 

        He went to examine the wall. He recognized his house- starred in yellow highlighter. Others were marked, too, the date of their addition marked next to them. 1947, 1949, 1952. Federal had been on the map for abductions for a long time. 1995. 

    Mulder didn’t feel so good. He kept examining. Newspaper articles were pinned as not to hide the map of Federal. Disappearance, missing, abduction. Theorized kidnapping. Eventually the notes about police investigating stopped. It was an imagine of irony, the investigations stopping and the celebrations starting. 

   He wondered, if the investigations had never stopped, if they could’ve found some of the missing people. The anger in him ached.  Bitter, sour, twisting, turning, swirling. Sickness in his heart. 

   But there weren’t obvious answers. There were never really fingerprints or evidence or testimonials or really anything to base an investigation off. 

_ Wait--  _

   “Frohike, does your mom have string?” 

   “She knits. She has yarn.” 

    “That will work.” 

  When Frohike returned, Mulder took the ball of yarn in his hand and started connecting the victims. He carefully wrapped the string around every thumbtack, a purple-strung game of connect the dots. 

    When he was finished, Mulder stepped back. The thread crossed over itself and made sharp turns and straight corners, but he couldn’t discern anything from it. 

    He put his head in his hands.       

   Dead ends. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed.   
> Kudos and comments (especially feedback!) are always deeply appreciated. You do not know how much they mean to me!


End file.
